LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


PRINCETON.  N.  J. 


PRESENTED  BY 


Dr.  Henry  E.  Hale 


BV  4905  .A6  1854 
Anspach,  F.  R.  1815-1867 
The  memory  of  the  dead 


/J     / 


t  Mtnmi]  tliljt  Dtui). 


-WOGiCftL'v" 


OUR    DEPARTED. 


/ 


BY 


REV.   F.  E.  "ANSPACH,  A.M., 

HAOERSTOWX,     MARYLAND. 


As  flowers  which  uight,  when  day  is  o'er,  perfume, 
Breathes  the  sweet  memory  from  a  good  man's  tomb. 

Sir  E.  B.  Lytton. 


'^Ijirii  ((^Mtinu. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

LINDSAY    &    BLAKISTON. 

1854. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1854,  by 

LINDSAY   &   BLAKISTON, 

in  the  ClerK  s  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 

STEREOTYPED  BT  J.  FAGAN.  PRINTED  BY   C.  SHERMAN. 


(ii) 


"We  honor  tbe  memory  of  that  virtue  which  shall  never  die;  we 
honor  those  ashes,  which  the  confession  of  faith  has  consecrated :  we 
honor  in  them  the  seeds  of  eternity.  "We  honor  then  the  body  which 
Christ  himself  honored  in  the  sword,  and  which  with  Him,  will 
remain  in  Heaven."  —  Ambrose,  Tom.  ii,  p.  467. 


(iii) 


^ffcctfonatelj?  Enscrfftelr 
BY   TUB   AUTHOR 

TO 

LILLY, 

HIS  WIFE, 

WHO   IS    THE    SUN    OP    HIS    DOMESTIC   CIRCLE, 

AND     TDE     DEWS     OF     WHOSE    €ENTLE     SPIRIT     CLOTHE, 

WITH   THE    FRAGRAXCE    OF    FILIAL   AFFECTION, 

THE    FLOWERS    THAT    STILL   REMAIN 

AND    ADORN   THE    GARDEN 

OF   HIS   HOME. 


1*  Cv) 


PREFACE. 


In  presenting  this  ofl'ering,  it  is  proper  that  the 
author  should  accompany  it  with  a  brief  statement 
of  the  reasons  which  were  influential  in  its  prepara- 
tion. 

It  is  certainly  to  he  regretted,  that  the  earthly  resting 
places  of  the  dead  are  so  frequently  found  in  a  condi- 
tion of  dilapidation  and  neglect.  A  grave  in  ruins  is 
such  a  mournful  spectacle  that  it  saddens  the  heart, 
and  throws  additional  terrors  around  death.  It  tills 
us  with  thoughts  so  gloomy  and  distressing,  that  we 
turn  from  it  with  pain,  and  lose  the  influence  of  those 
cheering  and  softening  emotions,  which  should  be 
evoked  in  our  visits  to  the  sepulchre.  The  tombs  of 
our  sainted  ones  should  be  ranked  among  our  sacred 
things.  They  deserve  to  be  cherished  and  guarded 
with  religious  concern.  And  so  fully  is  the  writer 
persuaded  of  the  importance  of  cultivating  a  devout 
regard  for  the  depositories  of  the  dead,  that  he  has 
prepared  this  work  with  a  view  to  direct  attention  to 
the  subject,  and  to  contribute  something  to  deepen 
and  encourage  a  feeling  which  affection  inspires  and 
religion  sanctifies. 

(vii) 


viii  PREFACE. 

Anotlier  object  coutemplated  in  the  preparation  of 
this  vohirne  has  been,  to  assist  the  bereaved  to  improve 
their  afflictions  for  permanent  spiritual  good.  It  is 
designed  to  be  a  companion  for  the  sorrowing.  It  is  an 
attempt  to  administer  the  oil  and  balm  of  the  Gospel 
to  wounded  hearts ;  to  diminish  the  w^eight  of  grief, 
and  alleviate  the  pains  of  separation  entailed  upon 
us  by  the  death  of  friends ;  and  to  reconcile  shrink- 
ing ISTature  to  its  inevitable  fate,  by  giving  expression 
to  those  considerations  of  hope,  of  peace  and  glory, 
which  Christianity  throws  around  the  ashes  of  our 
departed. 

But  the  author  indulges  the  hope,  that  while  it  will 
subserve  the  purposes  indicated,  it  may  also  be  interest- 
ing and  profitable  to  those  who  are  free  from  the 
pressures  and  pains  of  affliction.  For  the  topics  dis- 
cussed are  so  vitally  connected  with  the  great  interests 
of  man  here,  and  so  intimately  blended  with  his 
destiny  hereafter,  that  clothed  with  the  light  of  hope, 
they  constitute  pleasant  themes  for  meditation  with 
those  who  are  looking  forward  to  a  happy  immortalit}-. 

Hageksto-wn,  Feb.  17,  1854. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

PAGB 

Communion  with  the  Past 13 

CHAPTER   II. 
The  Sacredxess  of  the  Sepulciiiie 35 

CHAPTER   III. 
Visits  to  the  Sepulchres  of  our  Departed 53 

CHAPTER   lY. 
Lessons  which  the  Sepulchre  imparts 72 

CHAPTER   V. 
The  Glory  of  Man 87 

CHAPTER   VI. 
In  the  Sepulchre  the  Conflicts  of  Life  end 106 

CHAPTER   VII. 

At    the    Sepulchres    of    our   Departed    we   may   learn    the 

Value  of  Life 128 

(ix) 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

PAGE 

The  Sepulchre  peoclaijis  the  Evil  of  Sin 153 

CHAPTER  IX 

The  Sepulchres  of  our  Departed   admonish   us  to  be  gentle 

and  kind  to  the  livinq 175 

CHAPTER   X. 

Posthumous    Fame.  —  The    Sepulchre    instructs    us    how    to 

LIVE,  so  as  to  be  remembered  tvhen  dead 200 

CHAPTER   XI. 
The  Repose  of  the  holy  Dead 227 

CHAPTER  XII. 

The    Sepulchre   reminds   us  of   the  Value    and   Immortality 

OF  THE  Soul 247 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

The    Hope    of    Resurrection    divests    the    Sepulchre    of   its 

Terrors,  and  brings  Consolation  to  the  Bereaved 272 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Indestructibility  of  the  Family  Bond  a  Source  of  Con- 
solation TO  the  Bereaved 294 

CHAPTER  XV. 

At  the  Sepulchres  of  our  Departed  we  mat  also  learn  the 

Right  which  God  holds  in  us  and  our  Families 312 


CONTENTS.  xi 

CHAriER   XVI. 

PAGE 

Future  Recognition 329 

CFI AFTER   XVII. 

The  Sympathy  of  Jesus  with  afflicted  and  bereaved  Souls..  348 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Our  Present  and  our  Future  Home 368 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

Darkness   turned  to  Light,  or  the  Uses  we  should  make  of 

Afflictions  and  Bereavements 396 

CHAPTER   XX. 

Grave-yards  and  Cemeteries,  or  the  Claims  of  the  Dead 
upon  the  Living,  and  the  Care  -which  should  be 
bestowed  upon  the  Places  of  their  Repose 421 


THE 


SEPULCHRES  OF  OUR  DEPARTED. 


CHAPTER  FIRST. 


COMMUNION    WITH    THE    PAST. 


"  Voice  after  voice  hath  died  away, 

Once  in  my  dwelling  heard  ; 
Sweet  household  name,  by  name  hath  chang'd 

To  grief's  forbidden  word  ! 
From  dreams  of  night  on  each  I  call, 

Each  of  the  far  remov'd  ; 
And  waken  to  my  own  wild  cry — 

AVhere  are  ye,  my  belov'd?" 


It  is  the  dictate  of  philosophy  and  religion  to  cherish  the 
memories  which  bind  us  to  the  past.  To  turn  occasion- 
ally from  the  stirring  scenes  around  us,  to  hold  communion 
with  the  persons  and  events  of  that  silent  world  which 
follows  on  the  march  of  time,  is  alike  profitable  and 
pleasant.  For  if  judiciously  controlled,  this  intercourse  of 
the  thoughts  with  that  which  has  been,  assists  us  in  esti- 
mating and  appreciating  that  which  is,  while  it  qualifies  us 
•2  (13) 


14  com:.iuxiox  with  the  past. 

for  that  \\hich  is  to  come.  The  past  is  an  immense 
depository,  where  bygone  ages  have  stored  their  treasures. 
Thither  should  tlie  living  repair,  to  gather  the  gold  of  ex- 
perience and  the  gems  of  wisdom.  Lessons  of  rare  value 
may  be  gleaned  from  the  written  scroll  of  time.  For  it  is 
on]}'  after  we  have  surveyed  the  ample  page  of  history,  and 
wandered  along  that  great  highway  which  begins  in  Eden, 
and  upon  which  the  world's  population  has  journeyed  for 
six  thousand  years,  and  carefully  studied  the  monuments  of 
their  intellectual  and  moral  triumphs,  that  we  learn  the  capa- 
bilities of  the  human  mind.  And  it  is  in  lihe  manner  from 
attentively  contemplating  the  trials  and  misfortunes  which 
those  v.ho  have  gone  before  us  encountered  and  overcame, 
that  we  may  gather  fortitude  to  arm  ourselves  for  life's 
conflicts,  and  wisdom  to  derive  lasting  good  from  the  adver- 
sities incident  to  our  earthly  pilgrimage.  The  traveller  who 
has  crossed  the  Alps,  or  traversed  the  desert,  may,  by  his 
recorded  experience,  greatly  benefit  others,  who,  from  choice 
or  necessity,  undertake  a  similar  journey. 

But  it  is  not  so  much  upon  distant  ages  that  we  would  fix 
our  meditations,  nor  yet  hold  communion  with  the  distin- 
guished of  remote  periods,  as  to  call  up  those  with  whom  we 
once  held  sweet  counsel,  and  whose  forms  are  still  enshrined 
in  the  sanctuary  of  our  souls.  And  that  it  is  in  accordance 
with  the  Divine  will  that  we  should  sometimes  be  occupied 
in  such  exercises,  seems  manifest  from  the  nature  of  our 
mental  and  moral  constitutions.  Our  benevolent  Creator 
has  bestowed  upon  us  an  organization  which  neither  limits 


COMMUXION    WITH    THE    PAST.  15 

US  to  the  present,  nor  makes  us  exclusively  dependent  upon 
surrounding  objects,  for  all  our  enjoyments.  He  has  en- 
dowed us  with  memories  of  such  retentive  energies,  that  all 
the  events,  painful  or  pleasant,  which  make  up  the  record  of 
our  experience,  and  all  the  persons  with  whom  these  are 
associated,  are  summoned  at  our  pleasure  before  the  mind. 
Upon  the  ample  jjages  of  that  faculty  which  keeps  us  apprized 
of  what  we  have  known  and  felt,  are  painted  with  great  ac- 
curacy all  the  joyous  scenes  of  youth.  And  in  that  group 
of  pictures  which  impressed  themselves  there,  in  all  the  vivid 
colorings  of  the  spring-time  of  life,  there  is  not  one  that  we 
would  willingly  efface.  Those  rural  scenes,  amid  which  we 
spent  the  morning  of  our  existence,  have  left  such  delightful 
impressions,  that  they  are  contemplated  with  satisfaction  up 
to  the  evening  of  our  life.  Those  noble  mountains  in  whose 
deep  shadows  we  have  wandered,  and  those  blooming  vales 
where  flowed  the  crystal  stream  on  whose  moss-covered 
banks  we  innocently  gamboled,  and  those  fountains  from 
which  we  drank  refreshing  draughts,  can  never  be  forgotten. 
And  to  remember  the  companions  who  shared  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  those  scenes,  and  participated  in  the  amusements  of 
our  childhood,  not  as  men  and  women,  but  as  children 
clothed  in  their  innocence  and  beauty,  is  a  pleasure  of  which 
we  w^ould  be  reluctantly  deprived. 

But  above  all,  would  we  deplore  the  loss  of  those  images 
of  dear  departed  ones,  which  are  so  distinctly  engraved  upon 
the  tablets  of  memory,  and  with  whom  the  most  interesting 
reminiscences  of  our  life  are  associated.       Although  days, 


16  COMMUNION    WITH    THE    TAST. 

and  months,  and  years  may  have  elapsed  since  inexorable 
dealh  bade  us  surrender  the  bodies  of  cherished  ones  to  the 
grave,  and  their  spirits  to  God,  yet  are  they  still  present  to 
our  minds,  beautiful  and  life-like.  And  who  does  not  realize 
a  iiielancholy  pleasure  in  recalling  departed  ones,  be  their 
images  clothed  with  the  innocence  and  loveliness  of  youth, 
or  marked  by  the  cares  and  sorrows  of  age?  And  are  not 
those  hours  of  solitude,  which  the  bereaved  people  with  the 
recollections  and  endearments  of  other  days,  refreshing  to 
them,  as  pilgrims,  who  are  hastening  onward  to  that  blissful 
inheritance,  where  those  move  and  shine  who  were  once 
fellow-travellers  on  earth  ?  So  sacred  are  the  memories 
which  come  thronging  from  departed  joys,  and  so  fragrant 
with  the  odors  of  crushed  hopes,  that  the  mother  from  whose 
crown  of  rejoicing  has  been  plucked  her  brightest  jewel, 
often  withdraws  herself  from  the  circle  of  the  living,  to  hold 
communion  with  him  whosp  voice  is  no  more  heard,  and 
whose  seat  around  the  hearth  is  no  longer  filled.  Ay,  those 
are  holy  moments,  when  at  least  in  thought  she  presses  her 
loved  one  to  her  throbbing  bosom.  And  far  dearer  and 
richer  in  enjoyment  than  all  the  excitements  of  worldly 
pleasure,  are  such  seasons  of  retirement  and  meditation  to 
her,  who  was  scarcely  appareled  in  her  bridal  robes,  before 
a  mysterious,  but  wise  providence  bade  her  assume  the 
weeds  of  mourning.  And  infinitely  more  precious  than  the 
golden  offerings  of  earth  are  those  moments  to  her,  when 
alone  she  recalls  the  manly  form  of  the  noble  husband, 
to  whom    she  had  fondly  and   securely  clung,  as  the  frail 


COMJIUNION    WITH   THE    PAST.  17 

forest  vine  clings  to  the  sturdy  oak.  And  in  like  mannei 
does  the  hoary-headed  sire,  who  is  ascending  the  last  heights 
of  the  "  delectable  mountains,"  where  strains  of  celestial 
melody  come  hastening  on  the  air,  and  the  sky  is  tinged  with 
the  brilliant  hues  of  that  glory  into  which  he  hopes  soon  to 
enter,  find  pleasure  in  communing  with  those  who  have  long 
since  quitted  the  turmoils  of  earth,  and  gone  to  that  abode 
of  peace,  "where  the  weary  are  at  rest."  And  such  is  the 
tendency  in  all  whose  faculties  are  not  paralyzed  and  whose 
sensibilities  are  not  blunted,  that  it  may  be  truly  affirmed 
that  nature  and  religion  admonish  us  not  to  forget  or  neglect 
the  departed. 

There  are  also  many  to  whom  there  is  little  left  but 
departed  joys.  And  it  is  a  distinguished  favor  and  a  merci- 
ful provision  of  our  heavenly  Father,  that  human  hearts  can 
re-live  and  re-enjoy  forever  all  that  was  beautiful  and  good 
in  the  annals  of  personal  experience.  It  is  upon  that  w^hich 
memory  supplies  from  scenes  fled  forever,  in  connection  with 
that  which  hope  furnishes  from  the  future,  that  some  hearts 
live.  For  there  are  not  a  few  to  whom  the  present,  with  all 
its  activities  and  excitement,  is  void  of  pleasure.  Persons 
whose  known  and  felt  duties  are  discharged  in  a  manner 
which  indicates  very  clearly  that  the  springs  of  action  have 
received  a  stunning  blow,  and  that  the  affections  are  some- 
where else.  (Jo  with  me  to  that  mansion  externally  embel- 
lished wih  all  the  marks  of  affluence,  and  within  gorgeously 
furnished  with  all  the  comforts  and  decorations  which  a  re- 
fined taste  could  suggest  and  wealth  command,  and  what  do 


18  COMMUNION    WITH    THE    PAST. 

we  see  ?  An  air  of  silence  and  of  gloom  pervades  those 
halls  once  filled  wilh  light  and  joyous  hearts.  Behold  the 
mistress  of  that  palace,  formerly  so  brilliant  and  happy,  now 
so  sad  and  pale.  All  her  movements  are  mechanically  per- 
formed ;  and  her  conversation  is  destitute  of  spirit.  Why  is 
that  brow,  where  once  played  the  light  of  hope,  shrouded 
with  care  ?  Why  are  those  eyes  from  which  gleamed  a  con- 
stant sunshine,  so  dim  with  much  weeping?  And  why  is 
that  countenance,  once  wreathed  in  winning  smiles,  now 
covered  with  a  fixed  and  oppressive  sadness?  O !  it  is  the 
blight  of  death  which  has  fallen  upon  that  home,  and  its 
shadow  still  lingers  upon  its  inmates.  That  mother  is  often 
missed  by  the  members  of  the  household  ;  and  when  sought, 
is  found  by  that  little  bed  in  which  the  loved  one  last  slept, 
or  seated  by  that  drawer  in  v.'hich  she  had  deposited  the 
memorials  of  her  departed ;  and  one  by  one  she  looks  over 
the  toys  which  had  amused  her  child,  and  the  garments 
which  it  wore,  and  the  golden  locks  which  adorned  his  brow 
whik^  living.  These  are  links  of  communication  between 
the  living  and  the  dead  ;  they  are  silent  messengers  recalling 
many  kind  words,  affectionate  smiles,  and  pleasant  endear- 
ments, in  which  this  bereaved  one  once  delighted.  Wearily 
pass  the  hours,  and  heavily  does  the  day  wear  away,  for  a 
weighty  sorrow  clogs  the  wheels  of  time. 

And  as  the  light  of  day  withdraws,  and  the  quiet  evening 
brings  the  husband  from  the  scenes  of  his  toil,  it  is  not  the 
cheerfulness  of  other  days  which  irradiates  his  countenance 
as  he  enters  his  home.     For  he  hears  no  little  footsteps  pat- 


COMMUNION   WITH    THE    PAST.  19 

tering  over  the  hall  to  greet  him  with  their  childish  welcome. 
He  is  solemn  and  thoughtful.  A  shade  of  sadness  steals 
over  his  features,  while  involuntary  sighs  rise  from  out  the 
holiest  depths  of  his  being.  Those  merry  voices  of  inno- 
cents which  were  wont  to  thrill  his  soul  are  all  hushed  ;  and 
those  sounds  which  were  to  him  the  sweetest  earthly  melo- 
dies that  could  greet  his  ear,  have  died  away,  and  he  only 
hears  their  faint  echoes  reverberating  through  the  chambers 
of  memory.  Distant  and  indistinct,  yet  charming  his 
thoughts  away  to  the  period  when  his  circle  was  unbroken, 
and  no  lamb  was  missing  from  the  flock.  And  not  only 
does  the  deserted  place  of  the  hearth  remind  them  that  their 
home  has  lost  some  of  its  attractions,  but  their  desolateness 
of  heart,  and  the  suggestions  of  the  things  around  them,  bid 
those  bereaved  parents  to  seek  comfort  in  communion  \Yith 
the  past.  Nature,  in  her  varying  aspects,  wakens  remem- 
brances of  other  days,  and,  therefore,  inculcates  the  same 
lesson. 

Spring,  bright,  beautiful  spring,  comes  with  its  soft  winds, 
its  singing  birds,  and  blooming  flowers.  But  fitted  as  this 
season  is  to  inspire  delightful  feelings,  and  awaken  pleasant 
emotions ;  the  year  in  its  youth  also  brings  with  it,  fresh 
recollections  of  the  departed.  It  is  suggestive  of  painful 
reminiscences,  so  that  while  it  loosens  the  fetters  of  the  ice- 
bound streams  in  nature,  and  sends  them  laughing  on  their 
way;  it  also  opens  afresh  the  fountains  of  grief  in  human 
hearts  by  the  remembrances  which  it  brings.  For  it  tells  us 
of  those  v.'ho  were  arrayed  in  the  freshness  and  loveliness  of 


20  COMMUNION    WITH    THE    PAST. 

the  spring-time  of  life,  but  who  faded  before  the  blossom  ha(\ 
been  succeeded  by  the  fruit.  And  while  the  melodies  of 
sweet  warblers  are  floating  on  the  air,  they  remind  us  of 
accents,  which  shall  no  more  be  uttered  on  earth.  The 
flowers  which  we  had  planted,  spring  up  to  reward  our 
labor.  We  had  their  seeds  brought  from  a  foreign  clime,  we 
cherished  and  tended  them,  and  now,  as  if  with  gratitude  to 
the  eyes  that  watched  them,  and  the  hands  that  cultivated 
them,  they  wake  into  life  under  the  warm  breath  of  the  south- 
wind,  and  unfold  their  delicate  leaves  to  the  kissing  sun- 
beams, while  they  bathe  the  atmosphere  wnth  their  delicious 
fragrance.  But  these  are  also  links  which  bind  us  to  the 
past,  because  emblems  of  our  faded  glory.  They  seem 
endowed  with  speech ;  for  their  unsullied  purity,  their 
delicate  structure,  their  sweetness  and  their  frailty,  all  vividly 
picture  to  our  minds  those  flowers  which  the  hand  of 
heaven  had  planted  in  the  garden  of  our  home,  but  which 
had  scarcely  bloomed  before  they  withered.  Thus  it  happens, 
that  this  season,  flushed  with  so  many  beauties,  and  radiant 
with  so  many  joys,  carries  us  back  to  the  period,  when  hands 
now  mouldering  in  the  dust  gathered  with  us  the  violet  and 
the  lily,  and  hearts,  now  still,  beat  warm  to  ours,  as  together 
we  rested  by  the  warbling  brook,  or  rejoiced  in  rambles 
through  field  and  forest.  Blessed,  joyous  days  were  those! 
And  blessed  be  God,  that  we  can  recall  those  scenes,  and 
feel  those  joys  which  then  flowed  in  untroubled  streams 
through  the  channels  of  our  beinjj! 

And  as  the  flowery  and  joyous  spring  rolls  into  the  golden 


COAIMUNIOX    WITH    THE    PAST.  21 

summer,  we  find  new  monitors  to  connect  our  meditations 
witli  summers  and  friends  loncc  since  o-one.  The  eoldeii 
harvests  remind  us  of  those,  who  were  brought  to  the  grave 
—  "Like  as  a  shock  of  corn  cometh  in  his  season,"  full  of 
days  and  honors.  The  ripe  grain  and  matured  fruits  of  the 
earth,  speak  of  venerable  parents,  "who  having  served  their 
day  and  generation  according  to  the  will  of  God,  fell  asleep 
and  were  gathered  to  their  fathers."  And  while  this  season 
revives  recollections  of  the  aged  good,  and  those  who  were 
cut  down  in  the  midst  of  life  loaded  with  such  honors  as  a 
grateful  people  can  bestow  ;  it  also  brings  to  our  remembrance 
those  buds  of  promise  which  were  early  transplanted  to  that 
clime  where  no  withering  winds  blow,  and  no  burning  suns 
consume,  but  where  eternal  youth  clothes  the  immortals. 

And  as  we  are  ushered  into  autumn  whh  its  sered  foliage, 
the  countless  deaths  which  we  witness  in  expiring  nature 
cause  us  to  think  of  the  beloved  who  have  passed  away  as 
the  grass  of  the  field,  and  whose  glory  has  faded  as  the 
flower  of  the  grass.  And  while  emotions  of  regret  are 
kindling  within  us,  the  mournful  sighings  of  autumnal  winds 
through  the  stubble  and  naked  shrubbery  breathe  notes  of 
sadness  which  symphonize  with  the  music  of  our  bereaved 
hearts.  The  leaves  quivering  for  a  moment  in  the  sharp 
blast,  then  rustling  through  the  boughs  in  their  descent  to  the 
earth,  })roclaim  the  frailty  of  mani  "  For  we  do  all  fade  as 
the  leaf."  And  in  the  lofty  oak  stripped  of  its  foliage  and 
stretching  its  bare  arms  out  towards  heaven  as  if  in  suppli- 
cation that  the  few  leaves  which  yet  tremble  on  its  branches 


22  COMMUNION    AVITII    TUE    PAST. 

might  be  spared  by  the  gale,  we  have  a  fit  emblem  of  many 
a  parent  who  like  Jacob  of  old  utters  his  touching  complaint, 
"Joseph  is  not,  and  Simeon  is  not,  and  now  would  ye  also 
take  Benjamin  away?     All  these  things  are  against  me." 

And  thus  also  when  winter  comes,  it  too  calls  up  thoughts 
of  the  departed.  As  the  mother  composes  her  little  ones  to 
rest,  and  draws  around  them  the  curtains  to  shield  them 
from  the  cold  air,  she  thinks  of  those  who  sleep  far  away  in 
the  silent  grave,  over  whom  the  night  winds  blow,  and  for 
whom  the  drifting  snow  forms  the  only  covering.  And  when 
seated  around  the  cheerful  fire,  we  do  not  blame  her  for 
dropping  those  silent  tears  as  she  muses  on  the  past.  And 
how  painfully  do  those  festival  occasions,  the  happy  Christmas, 
and  the  merry  New  Year,  remind  us  all  of  those  who  once 
participated  in  the  innocent  amusements  of  those  seasons ! 
Those  time-honored  feslivals  seem  invested  with  a  sort  of 
enchantment  which  peoples  the  hour  with  all  those  with 
Yv'hom  v>e  ever  enjoyed  sweet  fellowship.  I  know  not  why, 
but  to  my  mind  there  is  a  mysterious  influence  connected 
with  the  recurrence  of  Christmas  which  irresistibly  attracts 
me  to  kindred  souls.  As  the  shades  of  the  evening  gather 
around  me,  I  seem  to  hear  the  fond  inquiries  and  kind  greet- 
ings of  absent  friends  as  they  were  wont  to  break  upon  my 
ears,  and  thoughts  of  other  days  come  thronging  back  upon 
my  mind  like  spirits  from  a  distant  tomb  ;  —  thoughts,  some 
bright  and  beautiful  as  the  images  of  angels,  and  others  robt'd 
in  gloomy  apparel,  and  breathing  soft  notes  of  melancholy 
llirough  my  soul.     And  in  that  hour  the  veil  of  oblivion  is 


COMMUNION    AVITII    THE    PAST.  28 

lif  ed  and  I  see  all  my  past  life  opened  to  my  view,  and  each 
recurrence  of  this  festival  stands  radiant  with  those  joys  with 
which  my  happy  childhood  crowned  it.  And  prompted  hy 
those  yearnings  of  my  spirit  for  kindred  souls,  I  exclaim, 
"  0,  that  I  had  the  wings  of  a  dove,"  then  woakl  I  fly  to  my 
distant  loved  ones.  I  woidd  hasten  to  greet  my  aged  father 
at  his  fireside,  and  breathe  a  prayer  at  his  knees.  I  would 
pass  from  home  to  home,  until  I  had  mingled  in  the  joys  or 
sorrows  of  all  whom  my  soul  loveth.  I  would  leave  tliose 
earthly  abodes  and  ascend  into  heaven,  and  seek  among  the 
armies  of  the  skies  my  dear  sainted  ones,  and  commission 
one  of  those  sons  of  light  to  wing  his  flight  to  all  my  beloved, 
and  shake  upon  their  happy  circles  odors  borne  fresh  from 
the  paradise  of  God.  But  as  it  is  only  in  thought  that  I  can 
obey  these  impulses  of  my  being,  I  never  fail  on  those  occasions 
to  breathe  the  prayer,  that  He  who  was  born  in  Bethlehem, 
may  be  born  in  every  heart,  and  find  a  home  in  every  family ; 
and  that  the  myrrh  and  incense  of  grateful  souls  may  be 
poured  upon  the  altar  of  Him,  who  assumed  our  nature,  that 
we  might  share  his  glory.  And  while  such  feelings  and 
yearnings  are  not  peculiar  to  an  individual,  but  shared  in 
common  by  all  whose  sensibilities  are  alive  to  the  force  with 
which  the  law  of  association  operates,  it  is  not  marvellous 
that  on  such  occasions  our  sainted  friends  should  be  more 
vividly  presented  to  us,  than  at  any  other  time.  And  it  is 
therefore  not  singular  that,  while  we  make  our  little  gifts  to 
those  whom  a  kind  Providence  still  continues  with  us,  the 
images  of  those  who  have  gone  to  heaven  should  be  fre- 


24  COMMUNION    WITH    THE    PAST. 

qiiently  recalled.  And  then,  and  then  only,  can  we  realize 
the  extent  of  that  void  which  the  removal  of  one  little  cherub 
produces.  It  has  been  beautifully  said,  "  that  nothing  on 
earth  casts  so  long  a  shadow  as  the  little  coffin."  And 
small  as  are  those  graves  which  hold  their  infant  remains, 
they  are  sufficiently  capacious,  to  gather  within  their  embrace 
the  dearest  joys  and  fondest  hopes  of  parental  hearts.  Ye 
blest  little  slumberers,  ye  know  not  how  you  fill  our  thoughts, 
and  blend  with  all  our  feelings  —  how  our  affections  now 
linger  around  your  precious  dust,  and  now  rise  to  your  bliss- 
ful abode  on  high. 

That  very  interesting  associations  are  kept  alive  with  the 
departed,  that  kind  feelings  are  fostered,  and  that  the  most 
tender  recollections  of  them  linger  in  the  memories  of  the 
living,  is  abundantly  manifest  from  the  many  testimonials  of 
undying  affection  which  adorn  the  places  of  their  repose. 

Laurel  Hill  Cemetery,  that  charming  city  of  many  dead, 
will  furnish  us  with  illustrations  of  this  truth.  Often  have  I 
regarded  with  admiration  the  efforts  of  survivors,  as  exhibited 
within  that  sacred  enclosure,  to  perpetuate  the  remembrance 
of  those  who  were  dear  to  them.  There  we  meet  with  many 
tokens  which  eloquently  express  the  language  of  wounded, 
but  loving  hearts.  There  is  one  little  grave  there,  on  which 
the  figure  of  a  lamb,  in  a  state  of  repose,  speaks  to  us  the 
thoughts  which  are  cherished  of  the  innocence,  gentleness, 
and  rest  of  the  slumberer.  There  is  another,  where  stands 
the  guardian  angel  with  his  eye  fixed  upon  the  slumbering 
dust ;  thus  imaging  the  security  and  happiness  of  the  departed, 


COMMUNION   AVITH   THE   PAST.  25 

and  reminding  the  survivors  that  their  sainted  are  under  the 
guardianship  of  angels,  and  the  companions  of  those  blessed 
spirits  who  minister  to  the  heirs  of  salvation.  And  there, 
too,  has  the  sculptor's  chisel  fashioned  out  of  marble  the 
rose-bud,  and  the  half-blown  flower,  broken  from  the  parent 
stem  and  fallen  to  the  earth.  And  there,  also,  lies  separated 
from  the  stock,  the  lily,  as  fresh  and  white  as  though  it  had 
just  dropped.  Again,  we  behold  the  well-formed  urn,  the 
broken  shaft,  the  anchor  and  the  cross,  all  appropriate  and 
.significant  symbols,  speaking  the  language  of  afTection,  of 
regret,  and  of  hope,  from  living  and  loving  hearts.  And  still 
more  delicate  and  touching  ofi'erings  of  friendship  are  seen, 
in  the  many  vases  and  wreaths  of  choice  flowers  which  are 
daily  laid  upon  the  tombs.  These  tokens  of  affection  assure 
us  that  warm  hearts  fondly  throb  around  those  places  where 
beloved  ones  repose.  Even  that  stranger  who  sought  and 
obtained  a  resting-place  on  the  verge  of  that  bank  laved  by 
the  gentle  Schuylkill,  is  not  forgotten,  for  his  grave  is  often 
fragrant  from  the  tributes  furnished  by  delicate  hands. 

And  not  only  may  we  learn  from  the  attractive  manner  m 
which  these  tombs  are  adorned,  but  also  from  their  inscrip- 
tions, that  their  inmates  were  loved,  and  that  they  are  remem- 
bered. The  value  of  these  chaste  and  costly  monuments  is 
frequently  enhanced  by  the  sublime  sentiments  which  consti- 
tute their  records.  Let  us  pause  a  moment  before  some  of 
these  memorials  of  departed  worth,  and  examine  the  inscrip- 
tions dictated  by  piety  and  affection.  There  is  the  stately 
3 


26  COMMUNION   WITH    THE    PAST. 

pile  ^Yhich  marks  the  resting-place  of  the  philanthropist,  and 
we  read  — 

"  A  friend  to  the  fatherless,  and  his  bounty  caused  the 
v.'idow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy." 

"  The  blessing  of  those  who  were  ready  to  perish,  came 
upon  him." 

There  is  the  tomb  of  a  beloved  parent,  with  this  inscription : 

"  Our  mother  sleeps  !  when  will  the  morning  dawn  ?" 

Here  also  is  one  erected  by  a  Christian  congregation  in 
memory  of  him  who  broke  unto  them  the  bread  of  life,  and 
their  feelings  have  found  expression  in  the  language  of  the 
prophet.  "  How  beautiful  upon  the  mountains  are  the  feet 
of  him  that  bringeth  good  tidings ;  that  publisheth  peace ; 
that  bringeth  good  tidings  of  good  ;  that  publisheth  salvation; 
that  saith  unto  Zion,  Thy  God  reigneth !" 

And  not  far  distant  do  we  find  the  epitaph  of  a  weary 
pilgrim,  w'ho  hoped  and  longed  for  heaven.  "  Think  of  me 
as  a  w-anderer  who  hath  found  his  home !  " 

And  what  breathings  of  tenderness  and  words  of  hope  do 
we  find  on  the  marble  of  those  many  little  graves,  which  we 
meet  in  every  enclosure  consecrated  to  the  dead.  In  one  of 
these  there  are  two  reposing,  whose  spirits,  only  a  few  hours 
apart,  took  wing  for  the  bosom  of  God  ;  and  it  is  written  of 
them  — 

"  Lovely  and  pleasant  in  their  lives,  and  in  their  death 
*hey  w'ere  not  divided." 

"  Side  by  side  they're  sweetly  sleei^ing— 
Little  loved  ones  early  blest ; 


COMMUNION  WITH    THE    PAST.  27 

Free  from  care  and  pain  and  sorrow, 
Oh  !  rejoice  tliej'  are  at  rest." 

And  there  is  yet  another,  who  sleeps  lonely  and  far 
removed  from  those  in  whose  family  crown  he  shines  as  the 
first  immortal  gem  with  which  God  adorned  it,  whose  grave 
is  guarded  by  kind  friends,  and  whose  history  is  written  on 
his  tomb-stone  in  the  sublime  words  of  the  great  Redeemer ! 
"  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  Heaven." 

Perhaps  there  are  individuals  whose  sympathies  are  not  in 
unison  with  sentiments  like  these,  and  who  may  be  disposed 
to  smile  at  those  expressions  of  tenderness,  which  fond  hearts 
have  caused  to  be  engraved  upon  the  slab  which  designates 
the  spot  where  their  beloved  repose ;  but  such  are  either 
void  of  sensibility,  or  they  have  never  tasted  the  cup  of 
bereavement,  and  are  therefore  not  competent  judges  of  what 
is,  or  is  not,  a  fitting  epitaph.  Even  if  those  little  records  are 
sometimes  crude  in  sentiment,  or  not  remarkable  for  the 
taste  which  has  decided  upon  their  appropriateness,  they  yet 
possess  an  air  of  sacredness  which  forbids  criticism,  even  on 
the  part  of  those  whose  culture  and  refinement  qualify  them 
to  discriminate  between  what  is,  and  what  is  not,  offensive  to 
good  taste.  It  is  not  often  the  language  of  adulation,  but 
that  of  the  heart,  which  is  found  upon  the  tomb  ;  and  therefore 
it  is  not  the  intellect,  but  the  heart,  which  should  sit  in  judg- 
ment upon  it.  But  those  who  know  from  personal  experi- 
ence, what  it  is  to  pass  through  the  deep  waters  of  affliction. 
and  who  have  felt  the  pain  which  accompanies  the  severance 
of  a  shoot  of  life  from  the  heart,  will  behold  beauty,  pro- 


28  COMMUNION   WITH   THE   PAST. 

priety,  and  meaning  in  those  little  records,  which  the 
inex{)erienced  in  such  trials  may  not  be  able  to  discover. 
Nature  seldom  if  ever  acts  wrongly,  when  its  operations  are 
in  conformity  with  those  laws  which  the  Creator  has  ordained 
for  its  government.  And  where  reason  discharges  its  appro- 
priate functions,  and  religion  controls  these  human  tendencies, 
those  expressions  of  grief  and  of  hope  on  the  part  of  the 
bereaved  are  perfectly  consistent,  because  consonant  Avith 
the  laws  of  our  being.  And  instead  of  censuring  the  practice 
of  writing  in  modest  language  on  the  tomb  of  a  friend,  the 
virtues  with  which  his  character  was  jeweled,  and  thus 
spreading  out  to  the  public  eye  the  history  of  one  whose  call- 
ing and  condition  in  life  precluded  the  probability  of  his  being 
extensively  and  intimately  known,  we  would  rather  encourage 
it,  for  the  reason  that  it  cannot  injure  any  one,  while  it  may 
benefit  some.  For  the  tomb-stone  has  sometimes  been  a 
successful  preacher;  —  one  whose  discourses  have  produced 
effects  upon  the  careless,  which  other  instructions  could  not 
accomplish.  In  some  instances  it  has  been  instrumental  in 
begetting  immortal  hope  in  souls  which,  until  brought  within 
its  influence,  w^ere  never  animated  with  gratitude  and  love  to 
God. 

Leigh  Richmond,  a  man  of  blessed  memory,  who  was 
honored  with  many  seals  to  his  ministry,  gives  an  interesting 
account,  in  the  "  Young  Cottager,"  of  the  impressions  which 
the  reading  of  those  records  on  the  tomb-stones  around  the 
church,  where  he  was  accustomed  to  meet  the  children  of  his 
parish,  to  instruct  them  in  the  principles  of  the  gospel,  made 


COMMUNION    WITH    THE    PAST.  29 

upon  that  child's  mind.  "  SoineUmes,"  he  says,  "I  sent 
the  children  to  the  various  stones  which  stood  at  the  head  of 
the  graves,  and  bade  them  learn  the  epitaphs  inscribed  upon 
them."  On  one  occasion  he  sent  the  little  cottase  g^irl  to 
commit  the  following  epitaph,  which  he  greatly  admired. 

"  Forgive,  blest  shade,  the  tributary  tear, 

That  mourns  thy  exit  from  a  world  like  this ; 

J'orgive  the  wish  that  would  have  kept  thee  here, 

And  stfiy'd  thy  progress  to  the  seats  of  bliss. 

"  No  more  confin'd  to  grov'ling  scenes  of  night. 
No  more  a  tenant  pent  in  mortal  clay. 
Now  should  we  rather  hail  thy  glorious  flight 
And  trace  thy  journey  to  the  realms  of  day." 

Having  finished  her  task,  she  returned  and  informed  her 
instructor  that  she  had  also  learned  the  following,  which  he 
subsequently  discovered  had  deeply  impressed  her  mind : 

"  It  must  be  so —  our  father  Adam's  full 
And  disobedience,  brought  this  lot  on  all. 
All  die  in  him  —  but  hopeless  should  we  be, 
Blest  Revelation,  were  it  not  for  thee. 
Hail,  glorious  gospel !  heavenly  light,  whereby 
We  live  with  comfort,  and  with  comfort  die. 
And  view  beyond  this  gloomy  scene,  the  tomb, 
A  life  of  endless  happiness  to  come." 

According  to  her  dying  testimony,  the  influence  of  those 
epitaphs,  in  connection  with  the  instructions  of  her  pastor, 
which  were  frequently  enforced  by  illustrations  drawn  from 
the  grave-yard,  was  instrumental  in  her  salvation. 

And  there  are,  no  doubt,  many  of  that  multitude  who  now 
stand  radiant  with  glory  in  the  presence  of  God,  who  will 
forever,  and  with  gratitude,  remember  lessons  v>hich  they 
3* 


30  COMMUNION    WITH    THE    TAST. 

learned  in  the  places  of  sepulture  on  earth.  And  while  the 
Holy  Spirit  has  thus  made  sentiments,  chronicled  upon  the 
marble,  vehicles  through  which  He  has  entered  and  renovated 
hearts,  we  i»nd  in  such  results,  as  well  as  in  that  com- 
munion of  souls  which  they  promote,  a  sufficient  warrant  for 
the  erection  of  appropriate  memorials  to  departed  friends, 
and  an  ample  vindication- of  the  practice  of  inscribing  there- 
on such  epitaphs  as  nature  and  religion  may  suggest. 

And  in  addition  to  the  considerations  already  presented, 
we  might  urge  as  another  argument  for  the  propriety  of  hold- 
ing communion  with  the  past,  the  soothing  influence  which 
it  has  upon  bereaved  souls.  The  present  may  offer  to  the 
contemplation  of  an  individual  a  complete  prostration  of  his 
fondest  expectations,  and  spread  around  him  an  utterly 
cheerless  desolation.  Clouds  and  darkness  may  hang  about 
our  path,  and  the  mind  may  not  be  able  to  seize  upon  a 
single  sustaining  principle  or  object  fitted  to  inspire  light  and 
courage.  But  as  David  frequently  sustained  his  spirit  by 
the  memory  of  past  mercies,  so  there  may  be  bright  pictures 
along  the  pathway  of  life  over  which  we  have  journeyed, 
where  our  dying  hopes  may  be  rekindled. 

"There's  not  a  'leath,  however  rude, 

But  hath  some  little  flower 
To  brighten  up  its  solitude, 

And  scent  the  evening  hour. 
There's  not  a  heart,  however  cast 

By  grief  or  sorrow  down. 
But  hath  some  memory  of  the  past, 

To  love  and  call  its  own." 

The  bee  does  not  with  truer  instinct  guide  its  flight  to  the 


COMMUNION    WITH    THE    TAST.  81 

f^ir-off  flower,  than  the  mind  throws  its  thoughts  back  to  those 
brighter  scenes  which  have  gladdened  former  days.  It  may 
be  that  these  sensations  of  pleasure  which  float  along  those 
chords  of  association  which  connect  the  presenfr^vith  happier 
scenes,  account  for  the  singular  phenomenon,  that  the  sweet- 
est of  all  melody  to  the  wounded  and  weary  is  the  music  of 
their  own  breaking  hearts.  But  the  influence  of  the  exercise 
here  reconmfended  does  not  produce  only  a  mollifying  and 
quieting  effect  upon  lacerated  hearts,  but  it  may  also  be  made 
subservient  to  the  interests  of  our  salvation.  It  is  a  subject 
of  frequent  remark,  that  few  persons  are  permanently  bene- 
fited by  those  providential  dispensations  which  desolate  their 
homes.  The  death  of  a  cherished  friend  which  at  first 
overwhelmed  the  heart  with  the  deepest  sorrow,  becomes 
less  painful  as  the  period  of  its  occurrence  is  removed. 
And  as  the  picture  loses  its  vividness  in  the  distance,  the 
resolutions  of  improvement  which  had  been  formed  are 
forgotten.  This  will  be  the  inevitable  result  where  first  im- 
pressions are  not  strengthened  and  guided  to  a  blessed  issue, 
by  frequently  recalling  the  scene  of  trial  and  considering  the 
end  which  it  was  intended  to  accomplish.  It  is  well,  there- 
fore, to  carry  the  lessons  of  their  bereavement  with  them  into 
their  retirement,  and  there  consider  calmly  the  dealings  of 
God  with  them.  And  we  doubt  not  that  the  most  disconso- 
late may  have  their  sorrows  so  judiciously  and  tenderly 
directed,  that  their  mourning  will  issue  in  rejoicing ;  and  the 
harps  which  have  long  hung  unstrung  upon  the  willows  will 
again  be  tuned,  and  swept  to  the  praise  of  Him  whose  ways 
are  unsearchable,  but  whose  judgments  ai'c  riglit. 


32  COMMUNION   WITH    THE    PAST. 

But  if  we  would  attain  the  highest  benefits  of  affliction, 
we  must  command  such  a  scope  for  our  meditations  as  to 
associate  the  occurrences  of  other  days  with  those  great 
realities  which  are  still  future ;  for  it  is  from  comprehensive 
views  of  human  destiny  and  the  Divine  government,  that  we 
derive  valuable  lessons  and  solid  consolation.  The  efful- 
gence of  those  eternal  realities  which  stand  out  to  the  vision 
of  faith,  has  its  lustre  augmented  by  the  reflected  glov/  of  our 
departed  days  of  sunshine.  For  while  our  afTections  fondly 
linger  around  the  graves  which  contain  all  that  was 
earthly  in  our  beloved,  our  thoughts  are  charmed  away  to 
that  bright  inheritance  which  their  spirits  have  gone  to 
possess.  And  heaven  has  already  become  more  attractive 
to  us,  because  they  are  there.  The  eternal  song  rises  in 
louder  and  sweeter  harmonies,  because  the  voices  whose 
music  gladdened  us  on  earth  are  mingling  in  the  hymns  of 
Cherubim  and  Seraphim.  The  white-robed  multitude  is 
arrayed  in  a  more  brilliant  glory,  because  our  sainted  ones 
are  of  that  number.  And  the  lustre  of  the  New  Jerusalem 
has  become  more  resplendent,  because  in  the  midst  of  its 
glories  owr  jewels  shine.  Blessed,  holy  ones!  how  beautiful 
you  make  the  memories  of  the  past,  how  radiant  the  pros- 
pects of  the  future  !  It  cannot  be  wrong  to  indulge  in  such 
reflections,  for  they  are  eminently  fitted  to  assist  us  in  our 
preparations  for  a  better  world.  That  they  may  be  made 
tributary  to  this  end  is  abundantly  manifest  from  that 
capability  of  the  human  mind  which  enables  it  to  con- 
template with  satisfaction   those   things   amiable   in   others, 


COMMUNION    WITH    THE    PAST.  33 

the  very  consideration  of  \Yhiich  will  foster  a  love  for  all  that 
exalts  them  in  our  estimation.  By  such  a  process  as  this 
may  the  living  incorporate  into  their  own  characters  those 
virtues  which  they  most  valued  in  their  departed.  And  thus 
our  growth  in  moral  excellence  will  be  promoted,  and  we 
will  endear  ourselves  to  those  with  whom  we  are  associated, 
thereby  enlarging  our  sphere  of  usefulness.  Were  tht-y 
blameless  in  their  deportment?  So  may  we  become  inno- 
cent. Were  they  distinguished  for  kindness  of  heart  and 
gentleness  of  temper  ?  In  us  these  may  also  form  promi- 
nent characteristics.  Did  their  presence  diffuse  a  glow 
of  happiness  as  doth  the  blessed  sunshine  ?  We  may 
imitate  their  example,  and  become  a  blessing  to  those 
around  us.  Was  their  piety  the  steady  brilliant  light 
of  true  heart-devotion  ?  Upon  our  hearts  also  may  the 
Divine  fire  burn,  and  make  us  "the  light  of  the  world." 
Did  hope  illumine  their  hour  of  dissolution,  and  did  their 
i^pirits  take  wing  from  the  radiant  summit  of  salvation  ?  By 
a  similar  course  of  life  "  our  death  may  be  that  of  the 
righteous,  and  our  last  end  like  unto  his."  If  we  subject 
our  hearts  to  those  influences  which  operated  so  advan- 
tageously for  them,  we  may  expect  like  blessed  eflects. 
Take  the  highest  type  of  Christian  character  —  it  is  formed 
by  a  combination  of  the  loftiest  of  known  virtues ;  its 
possessor  is  a  centre  of  light,  and  exerts  a  fragrant  influ- 
ence, and  makes  the  ways  of  piety  attractive  by  his  gentle 
and  Christ-like  spirit:  still  this  standard  of  excellence  lies 
within  the  reach  of  every  humble  and  sincere  follower  of 


34  COMMUNION   WITH   THE   PAST. 

Jesus.  Surviving  friends  may  gather  all  these  blessed  fruits 
by  recalling  the  excellencies  of  their  sainted  ones,  if 
they  are  animated  with  a  similar  purpose,  accompanied  with 
like  perseverance  and  faith.  And  by  such  an  importation  of 
the  virtues  which  shone  in  the  characters  of  our  departed  into 
our  being,  we  will  derive  lasting  benefit  from  communion 
with  the  Past.  And  it  is  by  such  means  that  our  Heavenly 
father  will  cause  "  our  light  afflictions  to  work  out  for  us  a 
far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory." 

Thus,  under  the  tuition  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  we  may  gather 
honey  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  destroyer,  while  a  gracious 
Providence  wreathes  our  clouds  of  dark  calamity  with 
brilliant  bows  of  promise.  From  these  considerations  we 
may  see  the  propriety  of  holding  communion  with  the  past ; 
for  it  brings  the  virtues  of  the  departed  good  into  collected 
forms,  and  makes  them  flaming  orbs,  whose  light  gilds  the 
pathway  of  life  and  makes  our  future  radiant  with  immortal 
hopes. 


CHAPTER  SECOND. 

THE  SAC REDNESS  OF  TEE  SEPULCHRE. 


"Yet  e'en  these  bones  from  insult  to  protect, 

Some  frail  memorial  still,  erected  nigh, 
With  uncouth  rhymes  and  shapeless  sculpture  deck'd, 

Implore  the  passing  tribute  of  a  sigh. 
Their  name,  their  years,  spelt  by  the  unletter'd  muse. 

The  place  of  fame  and  elegy  supply  ; 
And  many  a  holy  text  around  she  strews, 

To  teach  the  rustic  moralist  to  die. 
For  -who,  to  dumb  forgetfulness  a  prey. 

This  pleasing,  anxious  being  e'er  resigu'd, 
Left  the  warm  precincts  of  the  cheerful  day, 

Nor  cast  one  longing,  lingering  look  behind. 
On  some  fond  breast  the  parting  soul  relies, 

Some  pious  drops  the  closing  eye  requires  ; 
E'en  from  the  tomb  the  voice  of  nature  cries, 

E'en  in  our  ashes  live  their  wonted  fires." 


Among  the  instincts  which  do  honor  to  human  nature, 
there  is  none  deserving  of  more  exalted  rank  than  that  which 
causes  us  to  respect  the  dead,  and  constrains  us  to  regard  as 
re]i"-iously  sacred  the  places  of  their  repose.  (The  shrines  of 
the  dead  are  holy^  A  mysterious  sacredness  encompasseth 
the  sepulchres  of  the  departed.  There  is  a  stillness  about 
the  "rave  which  breathes  an  air  of  quietness  over  all  the 

(35) 


86       THE  SACREDNESS  OF  THE  SEPULCHRE. 

scenery  around  it,  and  which  invests  every  object  with  a 
silent,  but  impressive  power.  The  atmosphere  seems  to 
partake  of  the  sanctity  of  the  place,  and  the  winds  blow  in 
softer  whispers,  because  they  sigh  their  requiems  over  the 
dead.  Even  the  trees  and  flowers  do  not  there  appear  as 
gay  and  brilliant  as  elsewhere,  but  are  tinged  with  those 
pleasing  melancholy  hues  which  the  grave  only  can  impart. 
The  graveyard  and  cemetery  are  not  common  ground.  They 
are  enclosures  where  all  is  not  earthly  ;  for  there  the  living 
and  the  dead  hold  communion,  and  the  influences  of  two 
worlds  blend.  God  has  clothed  these  acres,  where  seed 
for  the  resurrection  morn  is  so^\^l,  with  a  sacredness  which 
none  but  the  grossly  profane  can  venture  to  disturb  ;  while 
He  has  also  implanted  in  the  hearts  of  the  living  such  senti- 
ments of  reverence  for  the  sainted  as  will  form  a  perpetual 
bulwark  around  their  slumbering  dust.  All  men  seem  con- 
scious of  the  truthfulness  of  this  assertion ;  and  hence,  we 
find  among  all  a  uniform  regard  for  the  graves  of  the 
departed. 

Children  are  often  the  most  competent  teachers,  when 
lessons  pertaining  to  the  impulses  and  instincts  of  our  nature 
are  to  be  learned.  They  shall  be  our  instructors  here.  It 
was  on  a  bright  morning  in  May,  as  I  had  set  out  on  a  visit 
to  one  of  those  beautiful  cemeteries  in  the  vicinity  of  Phila- 
delphia, that  my  attention  was  arrested  by  a  group  of  sprightly 
children.  I  observed  them  tripping  along  the  hill-side  until 
they  reached  a  spot  where  bloomed  the  violet  and  hare-bell ; 
and  I  saw  their   little  hands   busily  engaged   in   gathering 


THE  SACREDNESS  OF  THE  SEPULCHRE.        37 

bunches  of  these,  and  they  then  approached  the  entrance  of 
the  sacred  enclosure  where  I  stood.    As  soon  as  they  entered, 
then'  innocent  glee  abated,  their  merry  voices  subsided  into 
gentle  whispers,  and  they  moved  about  with  subdued  feelings, 
inspecting  the    graves  and  reading  the    inscriptions  on  the 
tomb-stones.     I  followed  on,  until  they  paused  before  a  little 
grave,  and  I  read  on  the  slab  which  covered  it,  the  touching 
record  —  "  Our  Willie."    On  this  tomb  two  of  the  little  girls 
laid   their   treasure  of  violets.      Why  do  you    strew  these 
flowers  on  this  grave,  I  asked  ?     They  looked  at  me  with  an 
air  of  surprise,  and  replied,  "  Why,  sir,  our   brother  Willie 
sleeps  here,  and  we  love  him,  and  often  bring  him  flowers!" 
After   the    others    of    their   company   had    made    similar 
offerings  to  beloved  ones,  they  left  the  place  without  disturb- 
ing any  thing,  and  with  apparently  happy  hearts.     Such  are 
the  feelings  of  children,   and  they  exhibit  the   instincts  of 
nature  in  relation  to  the  sepulchre.     And  there  is  no  better 
method  of  ascertaining  the  remains  of  that  which  is  com- 
mendable and  lovely  in  our  depraved  humanity,  than   by 
observing  the  unreserved  and  untaught  out-flows  and  motions 
of  the  hearts  of  uncorrupted  children.     For  their  minds  do 
not  yet  labor  under  the  pressure  of  those  false  notions,  which 
are  the  growth  of  riper  years,  but  which  despoil  the  heart  of 
its  early  and  sweet   sensibilities ;    neither  are  they  yet  the 
subjects   of    those    cares    and    anxieties   which   freeze    the 
fountain  of  the    soul's   sympathies.     But  it  is  not  only  in 
children   that  we  may  witness  a  becoming  respect  for  the 
graves  of  the  departed^  out  also  in  all  those  of  mature  years, 
4 


38       THE  SACREDNESS  OP  THE  SEPULCHRE. 

whose  culture  has  not  been  grossly  neglected.  And  if  there 
are  those  occasionally  found  who  would  rudely  tread  upon 
the  dust  of  a  fellow-mortal,  they  are  such  as  have  outlived 
the  finer  and  holier  feelings  of  early  years.  Yet  such  are 
seldom  met  with;  and  among  the  multitudes  of  those  who 
move  among  the  mansions  of  the  dead,  there  are  few  whose 
emotions  do  not  partake  of  the  sanctity  of  the  place.  And 
this  veneration  for  the  abodes  of  the  dead  is  a  sentiment  not 
peculiar  to  an  age,  or  a  nation,  but  is  coextensive  with  time, 
and  wide-spread  as  the  human  family.  For  while  there  may 
exist  at  different  periods  a  diflference  of  sentiment  in  relation 
to  the  same  subject,  no  such  diversity  has  marked  the  feelings 
of  the  race  in  its  respect  for  the  dead.  One  age  may  prize 
the  monuments  of  art  and  of  science,  and  cherish  with  intense 
enthusiasm  those  trophies  of  genius  which  have  come  down 
to  them  from  a  remote  period,  while  their  immediate  succes- 
sors may  be  as  remarkable  for  the  contempt  with  which  they 
treat  those  ancient  memorials  of  intellectual  triumph.  But 
in  whatever  else  mankind  have  differed  in  their  several 
generations  concerning  the  same  thing,  this  feeling  of  respect 
for  the  sepulchre  was  never  impaired,  neither  is  it  liable  to 
change.  From  the  remotest  antiquity  down  to  the  present 
hour,  have  men  loved  and  venerated  the  silent  abodes  of  the 
dead. 

Various  causes  have  doubtless  contributed  to  invest  the 
tomb  with  a  high  degree  of  sanctity.  And  apart  from  that 
instinctive  veneration  for  it,  of  which  all  are  conscious,  the 
other  causes  most  active  and  chiefly  instrumental  in  clothing 


THE    SACREDNESS    OF    THE    SEPULCIIRE.  39 

it  with  its  sacredness,  are  to  be  souglit  in  its  origin,  and  the 
])roibund  respect  with  which  it  has  from  time  immemorial 
been  regarded.  Its  origin  dates  far  back  in  history;  —  to 
such  a  remote  period  in  the  past,  that  it  may  be  safely 
assumed  to  be  coeval  with  death.  And  if  so,  is  not  its 
origin  Divine  ?  It  would  seem  that  such  an  inference  might 
be  legitimately  drawn  from  the  declaration  of  God,  at  the 
time  when  He  announced  to  our  first  parents  in  Paradise, 
the  penalty  of  their  disobedience.  "Dust  thou  art,  and  unto 
dust  shall  thou  return."  While  there  is  nothing  positive  or 
specific  in  this  language,  as  to  the  mode  in  which  the  human 
body  should  be  resolved  into  the  dust  from  which  its  elements 
had  been  taken,  it  would  certainly  suggest  itself  to  the  mind, 
that  the  most  befitting  way  to  dispose  of  the  body  would  be 
to  deposit  it  in  the  ground,  that  it  might  quietly  moulder 
back  to  its  mother.  There  is  moreover  a  propriety  which 
could  not  escape  the  consideration  of  the  living,  in  thus 
removing  from  their  sight  the  form  of  a  beloved  one  while 
it  still  w-ears  the  impress  of  beauty  and  life,  that  the 
humiliating  process  of  decay  to  which  all  must  be  subjected 
might  be  seen  only  by  the  eye  of  Plim,  whose  hand  will 
reconstruct  it  glorious  and  immortal.  But  if  such  an  infe- 
rence from  the  sacred  text  were  not  allowed,  and  if  we 
could  offer  no  tangible  proof  that  the  spirit  of  God  even 
suggested  such  a  disposition  of  the  dead,  the  custom  of 
inhuming  has  enjoyed  the  Divine  sanction  in  all  ages  of  the 
w^orld. 

In   the    most   ancient   of  the    Divine   records,  there   are 


40        THE  SACREDNESS  OF  THE  SEPULCHRE. 

frequent  allusions  to  the  grave  as  a  place  of  sacred  rest.  It 
is  represented  as  a  safe  and  blessed  retreat  from  the  miseries 
of  earth,  and  as  a  scene  of  undisturbed  tranquillity  in  contrast 
with  the  disquietudes  of  life.  Job  speaks  of  "  the  house 
appointed  for  all  the  living,"  and  hopefully  looks  forward  to 
the  tomb,  as  a  place  where  "  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling, 
and  where  the  weary  are  at  rest." 

Abraham  uttered  the  language  of  nature  and  religion, 
when  he  said  to  the  sons  of  Heth,  "  give  me  possession  of 
a  burying-place  with  you,  that  I  may  bury  my  dead  out  of 
my  sight,"  And  the  offer  which  the  sons  of  Heth  made  to 
Abraham,  "  in  the  choice  of  our  sepulchres  bury  thy  dead," 
conclusively  shows  that  inhumation  was  generally  practised 
in  those  times.  But  Abraham  seemed  unwilling  that  his 
sainted  wife  should  repose  undistinguished  among  strangers, 
and  therefore  insisted  on  purchasing  a  lot  of  ground  for  this 
particular  purpose,  "  And  Abraham  weighed  to  Ephron  the 
silver  which  he  had  named  in  the  audience  of  the  sons  of 
Heth,  four  hundred  shekels  of  silver,  current  money.  And 
after  this,  Abraham  buried  Sarah  his  wife  in  the  cave  of  the 
field  of  Machpelah,  before  Mamre,  the  same  is  in  the  land 
of  Canaan."  And  this  lot  which  he  purchased  remained  as 
a  family  burying-ground  ;  for  after  Abraham  had  died,  the 
sacred  record  informs  us  that  his  sons  Isaac  and  Ishmael 
buried  him  in  the  cave  of  IMachpelah.  In  this  'entire 
proceeding  of  this  ancient  patriarch,  there  is  a  beautiful 
exhibition  of  tenderness  and  regard  for  the  dead.  He  would 
not  receive  the  field  as  a  proffered  gift,  but  paid  for  it;  neither 


THE  SACREDNESS  OF  THE  SEPULCHRE.        41 

was  he  willing  to  accept  the  offer  of  a  sepulchre,  but  provitled 
one  lor  her  whom  he  loved.  It  is  manifest  from  his  conduct, 
that  his  feelings  concerning  his  departed  were  the  same  as 
the  bereaved  now  experience  ;  for  he  neither  wished  to  forget 
the  companion  of  his  bosom,  nor  have  her  buried  where  her 
grave  might  be  exposed  to  the  intrusion  of  strangers.  He 
cherished  those  sentiments  of  regard  for  the  sainted  dead  of 
which  all  the  good  are  conscious,  and  of  the  existence  of 
which  they  give  pleasing  evidence  in  their  care  to  beautify 
the  tombs  of  their  departed. 

Jacob,  in  the  closing  scenes  of  his  life,  also  gives  us  a 
touching  exhibition  of  the  yearnings  of  his  being  for  the  dust 
of  his  kindred.  Although  he  had  experienced  many  distin- 
guished mercies  in  the  land  of  Egypt,  and  the  honorable 
positfbn  of  his  son  Joseph  would  have  secured  for  him  a 
royal  intombment  in  that  country,  yet  did  he  earnestly  desire 
that  his  body  might  repose  with  his  friends,  and  his  dust 
mingle  with  theirs.  "And  he  charged  them"  (his  sons) 
"  and  said  unto  them,  I  am  to  be  gathered  unto  my  people ; 
bury  me  with  my  fathers  in  the  cave  that  is  in  the  field  of 
Ephron  the  Hittite  :  in  the  cave  that  is  in  the  field  of  JMach- 
pelah ;  which  is  before  Mamre  in  the  land  of  Canaan,  which 
Abraham  bought  with  the  field  of  Ephron  the  Hittite,  for  a 
possession  of  a  burying-place.  There  they  buried  Abraham 
and  Sarah  his  wife,  there  they  buried  Isaac  and  Rebecca  his 
wife,  and  there  I  buried  Leah."  And  this  dying  request  was 
religiously  observed  ;  for  we  are  informed  that  Joseph  with 
the  royal  sanction,  ordered  the  most  imposing  fiineral  obse- 
4* 


42  THE    SACIIEDNESS    OF    THE    SEPULCHRE. 

qules  for  his  father.  A  large  multitude,  composed  of 
Hebrews  and  Egyptians,  accompanied  the  remains  to  Canaan, 
where  they  buried  Jacob  amid  great  lamentation  and  mourn- 
ing. And  the  same  intense  desire  to  repose  with  his  fathers 
in  that  hallowed  spot  manifested  itself  in  Joseph  during  his 
last  moments.  "  And  Joseph  said  unto  his  brethren,  I  die, 
and  God  will  surely  visit  you,  and  bring  you  out-of  this  land 
unto  the  land  which  he  sware  to  Abraham,  to  Isaac,  and  to 
Jacob.  And  Joseph  took  an  oath  of  the  children  of  Israel, 
saying  God  will  surely  visit  you,  and  ye  shall  carry  up  my 
bones  from  hence." 

That  the  people  of  God  attached  a  very  high  degree  of 
sacredness  to  the  sepulchre,  may  also  be  gathered  from  the 
importance  which  they  ascribed  to  an  honorable  burial.  To 
be  deprived  of  this  they  viewed  as  one  of  the  most  distressing 
calamities  that  could  befall  them.  There  is  an  affecting 
instance  of  this  kind  mentioned  in  II.  Sam.  xxi.  9-14.  The 
sons  of  Rizpah  had  been  delivered  to  the  Gibeonites,  who 
slew  them,  and  exposed  their  bodies.  The  mother  of  these 
unfortunate  persons  "  took  sackcloth,  and  spread  it  upon  a 
rock  from  the  beginning  of  harvest  until  water  dropped  upon 
them  out  of  heaven,  and  suffered  neither  the  birds  of  the  air 
to  rest  upon  them  by  day,  nor  the  beasts  of  the  field  by 
night."  And  when  it  was  told  to  David,  he  ordered  their 
remains  to  be  gathered  up  and  decently  interred.  In  this 
touching  incident  we  see  the  regard  which  a  mother  had  for 
the  bodies  of  her  sons.  And  there  is  not  that  mother  living, 
if  she  be  worthy  of  that  holy  name,  who  would  not,  under 


THE  SACREDNESS  OF  THE  SEPULCHRE.        43 

like  circumstances,  sit  down  and  watch  the  remains  of  those 
whom  she  loved  until  reheved  from  her  office  by  death. 
And  a  similar  abhorrence  of  being  exposed  to  insult,  or 
devoured  by  the  fowls  of  heaven,  or  the  beasts  of  the  field,  is 
expressed  by  Solomon,  when  he  says,  "If  a  man  live  many 
years  and  be  not  filled  with  good,  and  also  have  no  burial,  I 
say  that  an  untimely  birth  is  better  than  he."  In  the  seventy- 
ninth  Psalm,  the  treatment  of  the  dead  on  the  part  of  the 
heathen  is  thus  deplored.  "  The  dead  bodies  of  thy  saints 
have  they  given  to  be  meat  unto  the  fowls  of  heaven,  the 
flesh  of  thy  saints  unto  the  beasts  of  the  earth.  Their  blood 
have  they  shed  round  about  Jerusalem,  and  there  was  none 
to  bury  them."  A  like  feeling  prevailed  among  other  nations 
on  this  subject.  The  Eg}'ptians  carefully  embalmed  their 
friends,  and,  after  suitable  preparations  for  interment,  they 
used  the  precaution  to  place  them  where  they  might  remain 
undisturbed.  And  such  care  marked  their  disposition  of  the 
dead,  that  but  for  the  restless  and  inquisitive  antiquarian, 
they  would  have  slumbered  on  unmolested  in  their  silent 
mansions  until  the  dawn  of  the  resurrection  morn.  And  it  is 
a  well-established  fact,  that  all  nations  deplore  the  fate  of 
those  to  whom  the  right  of  sepulture  is  denied.  A  distin- 
guished writer  on  the  Antiquities  of  Egypt  says,  that  among 
that  ancient  people  there  was  a  regularly  organized  court, 
before  which  the  character  of  the  deceased  person  was 
examined  prior  to  his  burial.  If  he  had  not  lived  in  accord- 
ance with  established  rules  burial  was  denied,  and  he  was 
cast  into  a  pool.      If,  however,  the  constituted    authorities 


44        THE  SACREDNESS  OF  THE  SEPULCHRE. 

pronounced  a  favourable  judgment  upon  his  character,  an 
honorable  disposition  of  his  body  was  ordered.  And  those 
cases  where  interment  was  not  allowed  produced  the  most 
painful  distress  among  survivors !  And  this  instinctive  dread 
of  being  left  without  burial  is  common  to  all.  With  what 
imploring  looks  does  the  emigrant  mother  beg  of  the  captain 
of  the  vessel,  that  he  might  spare  her  child's  body  until  they 
touch  at  some  friendly  shore  where  it  may  be  committed  to 
the  earth ! 

Another  proof  of  the  sacredness  of  the  sepulchre  may  be 
drawn  from  the  universal  regard  with  which  it  is  cherished. 
Wherever  we  meet  with  allusions  to  the  grave,  whether  in 
sacred  or  profane  history,  there  is  invariably  associated  with 
it  a  high  degree  of  sanctity.  And  not  only  is  it  manifest 
in  the  records  of  nations  that  they  regarded  the  tomb  as 
something  inviolable,  but  they  have  also  shown  a  uniform 
respect  for  the  sepulchre  by  the  care  which  they  bestow  upon 
it.  A  traveller,  in  speaking  of  Eastern  sepulchres,  remarks : 
"  If  we  except  a  few  persons  who  are  buried  within  the 
precincts  of  some  sanctuary,  the  rest  are  carried  out  at  a 
small  distance  from  their  cities  and  villages,  where  a  great 
extent  of  ground  is  allotted  for  that  purpose.  Each  family 
has  a  particular  portion  of  it  walled  in  like  a  garden,  where 
the  bones  of  their  ancestors  have  remained  undisturbed  for 
many  generations ;  for  in  these  enclosures  the  graves  are  all 
distinct  and  separate,  having  each  of  them  a  stone  placed 
upright,  both  at  the  head  and  feet,  inscribed  with  the  name 
of  the  person  who  lies  there  interred ;  whilst  the  intermediate 


THE  SACREDNESS  OF  THE  SEPULCnUE.        45 

space  is  either  planted  witli  flowers,  or  paved  all  over  \viih 
tiles."  Mr.  Buckingham,  another  traveller,  says,  "  Not  far 
from  the  spot  where  we  halted  to  enjoy  this  enchanting  view, 
was  an  extensive  cemetery,  at  which  we  noticed  the  custom 
so  })revalent  among  Eastern  nations,  of  visiting  the  tombs  of 
tlieir  deceased  friends.  These  were  formed  with  great  care, 
and  finished  with  extraordinary  neatness  ;  and  at  the  foot  of 
each  grave  was  enclosed  a  small  earthen  vessel,  in  which  was 
planted  a  sprig  of  myrtle,  regularly  watered  every  day  by  the 
mourning  friend  who  visited  it.  Throughout  the  whole  of 
this  extensive  place  of  burial  we  did  not  observe  a  single 
grave  to  which  this  token  of  respect  and  sorrow  was  not 
attached ;  and  scattered  among  the  tombs,  in  different 
quarters  of  the  cemetery,  we  saw  from  twenty  to  thirty 
females,  sitting  near  the  honored  remains  of  some  recently 
lost  and  deeply- regretted  relative  or  friend,  and  either  water- 
ing the  myrtle  plants,  or  strewing  flowers  over  the  green  turf 
that  closed  upon  their  heads." 

In  the  book  of  Nehemiah,  there  is  an  interesting  account 
of  an  interview  which  took  place  between  that  Jew  and 
Artaxerxes,  which  illustrates  the  regard  these  representatives 
of  two  nations  exhibit&d  for  the  sacredness  of  the  p-rave. 
Nehemiah  was  the  son  of  one  of  the  gaptives  in  Babylon,  and 
although  born  and  reared  in  that  country,  he  cherished  that 
love  for  the  Holy  Land  which  is  common  to  every  Jew. 
Doubtless  all  that  was  glowing  in  the  history  of  God's  chosen 
people  was  communicated  to  him  in  childhood,  and  it  is 
therefore  not  singular  that  his  heart  should  burn  with  patriotic 


46  THE    SACEEDNESS    OF    THE    SEPULCHRE. 

love.  Having  heard  from  some  who  had  come  from  Pales- 
tine, of  the  privations  and  sufferings  to  which  those  were 
subjected,  who  had  gone  there  to  rebuild  Jerusalem,  and  also, 
of  the  desecration  of  the  tombs  of  the  Prophets  and  Kings  of 
Judah,  he  gave  himself  to  earnest  prayer,  and  besought  God 
to  make  him  instrumental  in  the  deliverance  of  his  brethren, 
and  in  the  restoration  of  the  Holy  Land.  His  appearance 
before  the  king  is  best  described  in  his  own  pathetic  narrative. 
"And  it  came  to  pass  in  the  month  of  Nisan  in  the  twen- 
tieth year  of  Artaxerxes  the  king,  that  wine  was  before  him, 
and  I  took  up  the  wine  and  gave  it  unto  the  king.  Now  I 
had  not  been  beforetime  sad  in  his  presence :  wherefore  the 
king  said  unto  me,  why  is  thy  countenance  sad,  seeing  thou 
art  not  sick?  this  is  nothing  else  but  sorrow  of  heart!  Then 
I  was  very  sore  afraid,  and  said  let  the  king  live  forever ; 
why  should  not  my  countenance  be  sad,  when  the  city,  the 
place  of  my  father's  sepulchres,  lieth  waste  ?  "  There  could 
not  be  a  more  delicate,  yet  profound  expression  of  his  reve- 
rence for  the  o-raves  of  his  fathers.  He  makes  no  mention  of 
the  desolations  of  the  city,  only  in  so  far  as  they  related  to 
the  condition  of  the  sepulchres  of  his  kindred.  He  does 
not  picture  the  departed  glory  of  Jerusalem,  he  says  nothing 
of  her  broken-dow^n  walls,  her  fallen  palaces,  her  temple  in 
ruins,  only  so  far  as  these  have  affected  those  sacred  enclosures 
which  contained  the  dust  of  her  illustrious  dead.  There  was 
no  eye  to  watch,  no  hand  to  adorn,  and  no  arm  to  defend 
the  tombs  of  the  Prophets.  There  is  not  an  incident  in  the 
history  of  this   distinguished  man,  which  sheds  a  brighter 


THE    SACKEDNESS    OE    TJIE    SEPULCHRE.  47 

glow  over  his  eventful  life.  His  noble  spirit  had  borne  up 
under  the  varied  and  weighty  calamities  which  had  cast  their 
dark  shadows  over  the  Holy  Land,  or  emptied  their  woes 
upon  the  chosen  nation.  He  had  become  reconciled  to  all 
the  humiliations  incident  to  his  own  condition,  and  endured 
his  servitude  with  cheerfulness ;  but  the  intelligence  of  these 
profaned  sepulchres  brought  such  a  settled  sorrow  upon  his 
heart,  that,  even  to  the  eye  of  a  stranger,  it  was  painfully 
mirrored  upon  his  countenance,  and  awakened  the  solicitude 
of  the  Persian  monarch. 

Before  we  conclude  our  examination  of  this  subject,  it  may 
be  important  to  consult  the  views  and  practices  of  the  primi- 
tive Christians  in  relation  to  the  departed  and  the  places  of 
their  repose.  Christianity  in  its  influence  does  not  suppress, 
but  rather  exalt  and  ennoble  the  feelings  of  human  nature. 
Its  grand  aim  is  to  build  up,  not  to  destroy ;  to  correct,  to 
chasten,  and  to  purify  the  tendencies  of  our  nature,  and  not 
to  make  us  stoically  indifferent  when  the  tender  relations  of 
life  are  sundered  by  death.  "  From  the  first,"  says  Neander, 
"  Christianity  condemned  the  wild,  and  at  the  same  time 
hypocritical  expressions  of  grief  with  which  the  funeral 
procession  was  accompanied  ;  those  wailings  of  women  who 
had  been  hired  for  the  occasion :  yet  it  required  no  stoic 
resignation  and  apathy,  but  mitigated  and  refined  the 
anguish  of  sorrow  by  the  spirit  of  faith  and  hope,  and  of 
child-like  resignation  to  that  eternal  love,  which  takes,  in 
order  to  restore  what  it  has  taken  under  a  more  glorious 
form  ;  which  separates  for  the  moment,  in  order  to  re-unite 


48        THE  SACREDNESS  OF  THE  SEPULCHRE. 

the  separated  in  a  glorified  state  through  eternity."  "We 
ought  not  to  mourn,"  says  Cyprian,  "  for  those  who  are 
delivered  from  the  world  by  the  call  of  the  Lord,  since  we 
know  they  are  not  lost,  but  sent  before  us."  "  They  live 
with  God!"  "There  await  us  a  multitude  of  those  whom 
we  love,  fathers,  mothers,  brothers,  and  children,  who  have 
secured  already  their  own  salvation,  and  are  concerned  only 
for  ours."  But  while  they  were  thus  comforted  by  the  hopes 
and  promises  of  the  gospel,  diese  very  consolations  gave 
origin  to  the  custom,  which  required  that  the  memory  of 
departed  friends  should  be  celebrated  by  their  relations,  on 
the  anniversary  of  their  death,  in  a  manner  conformable  to  the 
spirit  and  hope  of  religion.  On  these  festival  occasions  the 
Lord's  Supper  was  administered,  and  was  intended  to  convey 
the  idea  "of  their  inseparable  fellowship  with  those  who  had 
died  in  the  Lord."  For  the  same  reason  did  they  deposit  gifts 
on  the  altar  in  the  name  of  their  departed,  because  they  were 
still  "living  members  of  the  church."  Besides  these  more 
private  or  family  celebrations  of  the  memory  of  those  who 
had  been  called  to  the  church  triumphant,  whole  communi- 
ties joined  in  commemorating  the  death  of  martyrs.  "The 
anniversary  of  the  death  of  such  individuals  was  looked  upon 
as  their  birth-day  to  a  nobler  existence."  "  On  each  return- 
ing anniversary  of  their  birth-day  (in  the  sense  which  has 
been  explained),  the  people  gathered  around  their  graves, 
where  the  story  v>'as  rehearsed  of  their  confession  and  suflrr- 
ings,  and  the  communion  was  celebrated  in  the  consciousness 
of  a  continued  fellowship  with  them,  now  that  they  were 


THE  SACREDNESS  OF  THE  SEPULCHRE.        49 

united  with  him  for  whom,  by  their  sufferings  they  had 
witnessed  a  good  confession."  This  custom  among  the 
early  Christians  was  not  only  innocent  and  beautiful,  but 
eminently  fitted  to  promote  spiritual  edification,  to  strengthen 
their  faith,  and  to  inspire  the  living  with  fortitude  to  live,  to 
suffer,  and  to  die  for  Christ.  That  it  was  afterwards -per- 
verted and  made  to  minister  to  superstition  cannot  be  denied  ; 
but  whatever  subsequent  abuses  may  have  grown  out  of  it, 
these  could  not  vitiate  the  original  excellence  and  beauty  of 
the  principle. 

The  pious  solicituae  manifested  in  the  times  of  persecution, 
by  the  followers  of  the  Redeemer,  to  rescue  the  mutilated 
remains  of  their  martyred  brethren  from  the  contumely  and 
msults  of  the  Pagans,  and  the  care  with  which  they  attended 
to  the  interment  of  such  fragments  of  their  bodies  as  they 
could  obtain,  attest  the  respect  which  they  cherished  for  the 
dead,  and  their  veneration  for  the  rights  of  sepulture.  They 
regarded  the  body  of  the  Christian  as  the  sanctified  organ 
of  the  soul,  and  were  therefore  not  only  solicitous  to  provide 
for  it  a  place  of  repose,  but  sacredly  cherished  the  grave, 
from  which  it  was  one  day  to  arise  in  its  glorified  form. 

In  the  History  of  the  Church,  by  Eusebius,  lib,  iv.  ch.  15, 
there  is  recorded  a  letter  from  the  church  of  Smyrna,  givmg 
an  account  of  the  martyrdom  of  Polycarp,  their  bishop,  in 
which  they  reply  to  the  heathens,  who  refused  to  give  up  the 
remains  of  the  martyr  "lest  the  Christians  should  abandon  the 
crucified  and  begin  to  worship  IdmV  The  church  writes  — 
"our  envious  and  malignant  adversary,  that  wicked  enemy 

5 


50        THE  SACKEDNESS  OF  THE  SEPULCHRE. 

of  all  the  righteous,  seeing  the  lustre  of  his  martyrdom,  had 
provided  that  not  even  his  corpse  could  be  obtained  by  us, 
though  many  of  us  eagerly  wished  it,  so  as  to  have  commu- 
nion with  the  sacred  body.  It  was  suggested  that  we  would 
desert  our  crucified  master,  and  begin  to  worship  Polycarp. 
Foolish  men !  They  know  not,  that  we  can  neither  forsake 
that  Christ  who  has  suflTered  for  the  salvation  of  all  men,  nor 
w^orship  another.  Him  we  adore  as  the  Son  of  God  ;  but  the 
martyrs  we  love  as  they  deserved  for  their  imconquerable 
love  to  their  king  and  master,  and  because  we  also  wish  to 
become  their  companions  and  disciples.  The  centurion 
therefore  caused  the  body  to  be  burned  ;  we  then  gathered 
his  bones,  more  precious  than  pearls  and  more  tried  than 
gold,  and  buried  them.  In  this  place,  God  willing,  we  will 
meet  in  joy  and  gladness  and  celebrate  the  birth-day  of  his 
martyrdom,  in  remembrance  of  the  departed  champion,  and 
for  the  purpose  of  exercising  and  arming  those  whom  the 
conflict  is  still  waiting."  Here  then  we  have  the  reason 
why  they  manifested  such  a  commendable  anxiety  to  possess 
the  bodies  of  those  who  fell  victims  to  the  spirit  of  persecution : 
it  was,  that  they  might  commune  with  each  other  and  with 
the  departed,  around  their  holy  sepulchres. 

But  they  also  exhibited  their  regard  for  the  dead  and  their 
reverence  for  the  grave,  by  erecting  suitable  memorials  in 
honor  of  those  whom  they  loved.  They  constructed  monu- 
ments of  the  most  costly  and  durable  materials,  and  inscribed 
upon  these  the  virtues  of  the  deceased.  Their  cemeteries 
were  prepared  with  great  care,  and  sacredly  guarded  against 
profane  intrusions. 


THE    SACREDNESS    OF    THE    SEPULCHRE.  51 

"  The  Christians  called  their  burial-places  Koi/ji.r)rY)pia,  dormi- 
tories, because  death,  in  the  light  of  the  Gospel,  is  a  sleep. 
These  dormitories,  as  we  here  see,  were  frequented  by  the 
Christians,  as  peculiarily  calculated  to  cherish  religious  senti- 
ments, particularly  if  these  places  had  been  the  depositories 
of  martyred  confessors.  It  was  here,  too,  where,  in  the  firm 
faith  that  death  is  but  a  sleep,  they  could  hold  a  kind  of  com- 
munion with  departed  virtue,  and  find  their  own  strengthened 
by  it.  Well  may  Christianity  be  pronounced  the  only  true 
philosophy,  when  she  arrays  our  greatest  terrors  in  such  a 
light." — Euseb.  lib.  vii.,  chap.  xiii. 

Many  of  these  were  constructed  underneath  the  surface 
of  the  earth;  and,  no  doubt,  with  a  view  to  afford  the  perse- 
cuted disciples  of  our  Lord  a  safe  retreat,  where  they  might 
worship  Him  unmolested.  In  after  years  of  quiet  and  victory 
over  their  enemies,  they  sometimes  erected  churches  over 
the  graves  of  distinguished  saints. 

We  have,  therefore,  the  ample  and  conclusive  testimony 
of  sacred  and  profane  history  to  sustain  the  sacredness  of  the 
sepulchre.  And  shattered  and  vitiated  as  our  humanity  is, 
it  still  claims  as  one  of  its  jewels  reverence  for  the  tombs  of 
our  departed.  And  although  some  may  raise  the  cry  of 
superstition  and  man-worship,  where  notliuig  more  is 
intended  than  merited  respect,  we  regard  the  feeling  which 
invests  the  abodes  of  the  dead  with  sanctity,  as  one  of 
exceeding  beauty  and  worth.  The  absence  of  such  a  senti- 
ment in  man  must  greatly  detract  from  his  character,  and 
is  almost  demonstrative  proof  that  he  is  a  stranger  to  those 


52  THE   SACREDNESS    OF   THE   SEPULCHRE. 

heavenly  inspirations  with  which  the  religion  of  Jesus 
peoples  the  human  heart.  It  is  not  possible  that  any  exalted 
and  noble  feelings  should  live  where  there  is  no  respect  <for 
the  grave.  Even  those  who  make  no  pretensions  to  piety, 
and  are  therefore  destitute  of  those  finer  sensibilities  which 
are  the  offspring  of  high  moral  culture,  linger  fondly  and 
mournfully  around  some  ancient  ruins,  and  utter  most 
pathetic  and  deeply-moving  sentiments.  And  if  the  ashes 
of  the  cities  of  antiquity  can  kindle  such  sublime  emotions  in 
the  bosom  of  man,  should  not  the  mouldering  dust  of  the 
human  form,  once  divine,  glow  under  our  contemplations 
with  the  fires  of  immortality.''  Aye,  we  do  feel,  and  we 
could  not  wish  to  feel  otherwise,  that  the  enclosures  where 
the  departed  repose  are  holy  ground.  The  instincts  of 
nature,  and  the  religion  of  Jesus,  who  sanctified  the  sepul- 
chre with  his  own  immaculate  body,  bid  us  cherish  the 
graves  of  the  sainted  as  holy  shrines.  Venerable  mansions 
of  our  departed !  we  will  place  some  mark  of  affection  upon 
you.  And  if  we  can  bring  no  other  offering,  we  will  plant  a 
flower  or  shrub,  and  water  it  with  our  tears,  that  some 
emblem  of  life  and  immortality  may  remind  the  passer-by  of 
tlie  glory  of  that  day  when  the  hand  of  the  great  Redeemer 
shall  rebuild  these  fallen  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 


CHAPTER  THIRD. 

VISITS  TO  THE  SEPULCHRES  OF  OUR  DEPARTED. 


'  Oft  let  rae  range  the  gloomy  aisles  along, 
Sad  luxury  !   to  vulgar  minds  unknown, 
Along  the  tombs  where  speaking  marbles  show 
What  worthies  form  the  hallow'd  mould  below; 
Proud  names,  who  once  the  reins  of  empire  held, 
In  arms  who  triumph'd,  or  in  arts  excell'd ; 
Chiefs  grac'd  with  scars,  and  prodigal  of  blood, 
Stern  patriots  who  for  sacred  freedom  stood  ; 
Just  men  by  whom  impartial  laws  were  given, 
And  saints  who  taught  and  led  the  way  to  heaven." 


Visits  to  the  places  where  our  departed  repose  are 
prompted  by  the  instincts  of  humanity,  and  the  suggestions 
of  love.  They  have  been  withdrawn  from  those  circles 
which  their  presence  made  glad.  Their  voice  mingles  no 
more  in  the  hymn  of  praise  which  rises  around  the  family 
altar ;  they  are  not  of  the  number  who  meet  around  the 
cheerful  hearth  ;  and  in  their  retirement  they  claim  from  us 
an  occasional  visit  to  their  graves.  The  remotest  period  in 
my  history  to  which  memory  points,  is  when  about  five  years 
of  age.  I  was  alone  on  the  green  lawn  that  stretches  out 
before  the  home  of  ray  childhood,  calling  my  sainted  mother, 
and  wondering  why  she  did  not  answer  my  call,  and  hasten 
5  *  (53) 


54  VISITS    TO    THE    SEPULCHRES 

to  my  side.  And  were  it  permitted,  would  she  not  have 
withdrawn  herself  from  her  angel  companions,  and  winged 
her  flight  to  the  presence  of  her  lonely  child  ?  Yea,  I  know- 
not  but  that  she  was  present  with  me,  and  her  sweet  spirit 
may  have  held  my  thoughts  in  communion  with  her.  It  is  a 
beautiful  and  consohng  thought,  and  one  certainly  not  in  con- 
flict with,  but  rather  encouraged  by,  the  teachings  of  inspira- 
tion, that  we  have  our  guardian  angels  to  accompany  us  on 
our  pilgrimage  through  life ;  to  minister  to  us  in  a  way  we 
know  not ;  yet  defending  us  from  the  assaults  of  the  tempter, 
and  bearing  us  safely  through  the  dangers  which  encompass 
the  road  in  which  we  travel.  God  promised  to  Israel  that, 
His  angel  should  guide  and  guard  them  through  all  their 
wanderings.  "  Behold,  I  send  an  angel  before  thee,  to 
keep  thee  in  the  way,  and  to  bring  thee  into  the  place 
which  I  have  prepared."  "  The  angel  of  the  Lord  en- 
campeth  round  about  those  who  fear  him."  "  He  shall  give 
his  angels  charge  over  thee,  to  keep  thee  in  all  thy  ways. 
They  shall  bear  thee  up  in  their  hands,  lest  thou  dash  thy 
foot  against  a  stone."  "  Are  they  not  all  ministering  spirits 
sent  forth  to  minister  to  the  heirs  of  salvation  ? "  And  by 
whom,  among  the  armies  of  those  spirits  around  Jehovah's 
throne,  would  the  office  to  guide  and  guard  us  be  more  fondly 
accepted  and  more  faithfully  executed,  than  by  those  who 
are  removed  from  us,  but  who  still  love  us  ? 

The  doctrine  concerning  guardian  angels,  though  perhaps 
not  as  clearly  revealed  as  many  others,  yet  has  its  foundation 
in  that  universality  of  belief,  which  clothes  any  dogma  with 


OF   OUR    DEPARTED.  55 

something  of  a  divine  sanction.  It  may  be  regarded  as 
belonging  to  that  class  of  truths,  which  enter  into  all  creeds, 
because  they  have  never  been  questioned,  but  always  received 
the  cheerful  assent  of  the  hearts  and  minds  of  all  men.  The 
Jews  firmly  believed  that  it  was  the  prerogative  of  each  one 
to  be  accompanied  by  an  angel,  whose  office  was  to  shield 
them  from  those  destructive  influences,  physical  and  moral,  by 
which  they  were  surrounded.  And  the  belief  in  guardian 
angels  is  equally  general  among  Christians,  And  if  the  idea 
were  even  imaginary,  and  possessed  nothing  real  in  itself,  it 
would  still  be  well  to  cherish  the  belief  for  the  sake  of  the 
influence  which  this  persuasion  exerts  upon  the  mind.  For 
by  a  law  of  our  nature,  as  powerful  as  it  is  sure  in  its  opera- 
tions, man  becomes  gradually  identified  with  the  feelings 
and  sentiments  of  his  companions,  until  he  is  altogether 
assimilated  to  their  character.  If  we  are  continually  asso- 
ciated with  persons  whose  minds  are  cultivated,  and  whose 
characters  are  adorned  with  lofty  virtues  ;  we  will  perhaps 
imperceptibly,  yet  steadily,  rise  to  that  intellectual  and  moral 
elevation  which  they  occupy,  and  ultimately  be  conscious  of 
a  perfect  harmony  of  sentiment,  of  taste  and  disposition  with 
those  who  have  attracted  and  moulded  our  spirits  into  the 
imasfe  of  their  own.  And  in  view  of  those  results  w-hich  the 
law  of  intercourse  invariably  produces,  the  persuasion  of 
attendant  spirits  will  necessarily  exert  an  elevating  and 
purifying  influence  upon  us.  Our  intellectual  and  moral 
exercises  will  partake  of  that  dignity  and  sanctity  which  are 
peculiar  to  those  of  angelic  beings.     And  if  to  this  we  add, 


56  VISITS    TO    THE    SEPULCHRES 

the  consideration  that,  among  those  invisible  ministers  com- 
missioned to  guard  us,  there  is  one  whom  we  fondly  cherish ; 
a  father,  a  mother,  a  companion,  or  brotlier,  or  sister,  or 
child,  moving  with  us  through  this  busy  and  bustling  world; 
hovering  about  our  path  by  sea  or  by  land,  by  night  and  by 
day,  in  public  and  in  private,  a  spectator  of  all  our  actions, 
and  a  witness  of  all  our  ways ;  will  not  this  conviction  be  a 
sleepless  prompter  to  virtue,  and  a  constant  monitor  to  warn 
us  against  vice  ?  Will  not  the  conscious  presence  of  our 
sainted  one  bind  in  strong  fetters  our  evil  propensities,  and 
thus  save  us  from  sin  ?  Will  not  the  felt  nearness  of  some 
such  beloved  spirit  animate  us  in  every  good  work,  and 
make  us  strong  in  every  conflict?  Will  it  not  give  us 
fortitude  in  trials,  patience  in  suffering,  hope  amid  dark 
calamities,  lift  our  aspirations  to  heaven,  and  bear  our  whole 
spiritual  being,  as  on  eagle  wings,  onward  to  the  bosom  of 
God  ?  O,  if  we  cherish  a  realizing  sense  of  the  presence  of 
these  holy  ones,  we  cannot  willingly  commit  sin !  We 
cannot  tear  from  our  hearts  and  trample  in  the  dust  those 
lessons  of  instruction,  which  their  example  in  life  and  their 
hope  in  death  engraved  upon  our  minds. 

But,  it  may  be  asked,  what  bearing  have  these  considera- 
tions upon  the  subject  which  constitutes  the  basis  of  this 
chapter?  and  in  reply  to  this  question,  I  need  only  remark, 
that  if  we  believe  our  departed  to  be  occupied  in  unremitted 
watchings  and  ministrations  for  our  good,  would  not  this 
conviction  place  us  under  solemn  obligations  to  manifest  our 
gratitude  and  love  for  them,  by  frequent  visits  to  those  sacred 


OF    OUR    DEPARTED.  57 

retreats  where  their  bodies  skimber?  And  if  the  spirits  of 
our  sainted  are  cognizant  of  our  actions,  and  if  any  earthly 
transaction  can  heighten  those  raptures  that  are  ever  flowing 
through  the  channels  of  their  glorified  being,  it  might  be 
presumed  that  such  visits  to  their  graves  would  have  this 
effect.  For  the  existence  of  a  pious  remembrance  of  the 
departed,  amid  the  mutations  and  excitements  of  earth,  where 
wave  afier  wave  sweeps  violently  across  the  mind,  and 
obliterates  or  displaces  by  new  ones,  impressions  which 
former  events  had  made,  would  afford  them  the  pleasing 
indication  that  its  possessor  is  not  lost  in  the  whirl  of  earthly 
pursuits,  and  utterly  forgetful  of  heaven  and  those  who  have 
gone  there.  But  apart  from  all  considerations  of  pleasure 
which  it  might  afford  to  the  sainted,  there  are  many  substan- 
tial reasons  which  might  be  urged  upon  the  living  to  induce 
thera  frequently  to  visit  the  city  of  the  dead. 

Such  visits  are  appropriate  and  beautiful.  They  are 
suggested  by  the  tenderest  feelings  of  our  nature,  and 
sanctioned  by  the  examples  of  the  great  and  good.  Every 
true  but  wounded  heart  echoes  to  its  partners  in  sorrow 
the  invitation, 

"  Come  unto  the  cLui'ch-y.ard  near, 
Where  the  gentle  whispering  breeze 
Softly  rustleth  through  the  trees; 
Where  the  moonbeam  pure  and  white, 
Falls  in  floods  of  cloudless  light, 
Bathing  many  a  turfy  heap 
Where  the  lowlier  slumberers  sleep  ; 
And  the  graceful  willow  waves, 
Banner-like,  o'er  nameless  graves : 


68  VISITS   TO   THE   SEPULCHRES 

Here  hath  prayer  arisen  like  dew, — 
Here  the  earth  is  holy,  too  ; 
Lightly  press  each  grassy  mound  ; 
Surely  this  is  hallowed  ground." 

There  is  something  exceedingly  attractive  in  the  place, 
which  constrains  the  visitor  to  linger  long  and  pleasantly 
about  it. 

But  it  is  by  these  visitations  to  their  tombs  that  we  show 
becoming  respect  to  departed  friends.  They  cannot  come 
to  us,  but  we  may  go  and  linger  around  their  ashes.  And 
it  is  surely  a  very  appropriate  way  in  which  we  may  express 
our  regard  for  them.  And  to  this  are  we  also  strongly 
inclined  by  that  undying  affection  which  will  forever  bind  us 
in  holy  union  with  kindred  spirits.  Such  visits  are,  therefore, 
not  to  be  regarded  as  dictated  by  an  idle  custom,  nor  the 
offspring  of  an  affected  sorrow  ;  for  in  this  we  act  from  a 
common  impulse,  the  force  of  which  all  must  acknowledge 
who  have  tasted  the  cup  of  bereavement.  And  not  only 
are  Christians  conscious  of  this  inward  yearning  for  the  dust 
of  beloved  ones,  but  those  also  who  are  destitute  of  the 
Christian's  hope  find  themselves  irresistibly  drawn  to  those 
places  where  their  kindred  repose.  Account  for  it  as  we 
may,  the  voice  of  Natu-e  is  stern  and  peremptory  in  its 
demands  in  this  respect ;  so  that  if  it  cannot  move  the  body, 
it  will  command  the  soul  on  such  visits.  It  is  one  of  those 
mysteries  the  force  of  which  we  feel,  but  the  nature  of  which 
we  cannot  fully  explain.  Our  feelings,  after  a  few  changes 
in  life,  will  become  more  or  less  localized.  And  we  dis- 
cover that  there  are  some  places  and  some  objects  which  they 


OF    OUR    DEPARTED.  59 

uill  seek,  as  the  volatilized  steel  seeks  the  magnet,  and 
around  which  they  will  as  firmly  cluster.  And  such  localities 
and  such  objects  are  enshrined  in  our  memories,  because 
consecrated  by  our  affections  and  baptized  with  our  tears. 
Thus  are  our  hearts  bound  by  a  viewless  chain  to  the  dust 
of  dear  departed  ones ;  and  if,  perchance,  the  pressure  of 
some  worldly  duty,  or  the  attraction  of  some  social  interest 
divert  the  thoughts  and  cause  the  heart  for  a  moment  to  for- 
get its  treasure,  it  will  turn  to  it  again  as  truly  as  the  needle 
turns  to  the  pole,  after  those  disturbing  influences  are 
withdrawn.  Our  nature  yearns  towards  the  sepulchres  of 
our  departed,  as  though  a  part  of  our  own  being  were  laid 
there.  If,  therefore,  we  would  not  do  violence  to  the  laws 
of  our  own  being,  and  war  against  one  of  the  holiest 
impulses  of  our  nature,  we  cannot  be  wanting  in  those  offices 
which  it  is  still  in  the  power  of  the  living  to  render  to  the 
dead.  Go,  then,  thou  bereaved  one,  as  often  as  circum- 
stances will  permit,  to  that  little  grass-grown  mound,  or  to 
that  larger  grave — go,  visit  the  hallowed  spot  consecrated  by 
the  ashes  of  thy  kindred.  It  will  amply  compensate  you  for 
your  trouble ;  for  it  will  feed  the  flame  of  that  pure  love 
which  unites  you  to  that  far-off  one  who  made  your  past  life 
beautiful  with  blessing,  and  who  may  fill  your  future  with  large 
and  glorious  good. 

But  the  influence  v.-hich  such  visits  exert  upon  the  mind 
and  heart  may  also  be  urged  as  a  motive  for  occasionally 
repairing  to  the  silent  abodes  of  the  dead.  Cyprian,  in 
speaking  of  the  early  Christians,  says,  "  that  in  seasons  of 


60  VISITS    TO    THE    SEPULCHRES 

persecution  they  were  accustomed  to  resort  to  the  sepulchres 
of  their  martyred  brethren  for  prayer  and  meditation;  and 
that  they  retu-rned  from  these  more  resolute  and  courageous, 
and  even  willing  to  endure  the  most  violent  death  for  the 
cause  of  their  Master."  And  the  influence  which  is  exerted 
upon  the  mind  by  the  graves  of  the  pious  dead  is  always 
beneficial.  These  mansions  are  eminently  suggestive ;  and 
there  is  much  about  the  entire  scene  of  a  grave-yard  which  is 
fitted  to  detach  us  from  earth,  and  bind  us  to  heaven.  It  is 
a  "^lace  where  the  thoughtful  may  gather  gems  for  their 
crown  of  glory. 

"  Through  these  branched  -walks  •will  contemplation  ■wind, 
And  grave  wise  Nature's  teachings  on  his  mind ; 
As  the  white  grave-stones  glimmer  to  his  eye, 
A  solemn  voice  v\"ill  thrill  him,  '  Thou  must  die !' 
When  Autumn's  tints  are  glittering  in  the  air. 
That  voice  ■will  ■whisper  to  his  soul,  '  Prepare !' 
When  AVinter's  snows  are  spread  o'er  hill  and  dell, 
'  0,  this  is  death  !'  that  solemn  voice  will  swell ; 
But  when  with  Spring  streams  leap  and  blossoms  wave, 
*  Hope,  Christian,  hope,'  'twill   say,  '  there's   life  beyond  the 
grave ! '  " 

Aye,  these  inclosures  will  give  birth  to  thoughts  whose 
mighty  sweep  will  embr?ce  all  that  is  real  and  noble  in  time, 
and  all  that  is  great  and  giowmg  in  eternity. 

Is  it  the  tomb  of  an  honored  parent  that  we  visit ;  one 
who  gave  us  existence  and  cherished  us  in  our  feeble  infancy? 
0,  what  memories  of  holy  love,  of  pious  nistructions,  of 
affectionate  endearments,  come  thronging  round  the  soul,  like 
bright  spirits!    The  records  of  memory  will  glow  as  if  newly 


OP    OUR    DEPARTED.  61 

written  in  letters  of  light.  Is  it  the  grave  of  a  beloved  mother 
where  we  stand?  My  mother!  0,  what  a  world  of  thought, 
what  an  ocean  of  bliss  there  is  in  this  holy  word  !  Yes, 
here  sleeps  my  mother.  She  who  forgot  the  anguish  of  her 
soul  in  her  joy  that  I  was  born.  She  whose  eyes  were  held 
waking  over  my  infancy,  when  all  others  slumbered  but-  the 
eye  above.  She  whose  love  rendered  her  perceptions  so 
Keen  and  far-sighted,  that  she  perceived  and  guarded  me 
against  dangers  while  they  were  yet  distant.  She  who  quieted 
my  feeble  cries  on  her  gentle  bosom.  She  who  first  bent 
over  me  in  devout  supplications,  and  taught  me  the  music 
of  Jesus'  name.  She  whose  last  words  were  words  of  bless- 
ing, and  whose  spirit,  as  it  rose  from  that  couch  of  suffer- 
ing to  eternal  mansions,  shook  from  its  wings  the  incense  of 
prayer  upon  my  head.  Blessed  holy  one,  who  lived  in  her 
child.  Rejoiced  when  I  was  happy  ;  was  in  anguish  when  I 
was  pained.  The  first  to  know  and  to  relieve  my  sorrows. 
The  first  to  be  interested  in  my  childish  prattle,  and  to  guide 
my  tottering  footsteps.  Dear  departed  one !  shall  I  not  here 
recall  thy  watchful  care  and  thy  unwearied  love,  and  thank 
the  Good  Being  who  gave  me  such  a  treasure  in  thee?  Such 
thoughts  and  feelings  are  fitting  at  such  a  place  where  a 
mother  sleeps,  and  becoming  those  who  can  appreciate  a 
mother's  afTection.  For  who  that  has  enjoyed  her  care  and 
received  her  instruction  may  not  breathe  out  his  soul  in  senti- 
ments such  as  shine  in  the  poem  of  Cowper,  on  the  receipt 
of  his  mother's  portrait?  Who  would  not  join  a  living 
author,  in  his  tribute  to  maternal  worth  ?  — 
6 


62  VISITS    TO    THE    SEPULCHRES 

"My  Mother!  manliood's  anxious  brow 

And  sterner  cares  have  long  been  mine  ; 
Yet  turn  I  to  thee  fondly  now, 

As  when  upon  thy  bosom's  shrine 
My  infant  griefs  were  gently  hush'd  to  rest, 

And  thj'  low-whisper'd  prayers  my  slumber  blest. 
I've  por'd  o'er  many  a  yellow  page 

Of  ancient  wisdom,  and  have  won, 
Perchance,  a  scholar's  name  —  but  sage 

Or  bard  have  never  taught  thy  son 
Lessons  so  dear,  so  fraught  with  holy  truth, 
As  those  his  mother's  faith  shed  on  his  youth." 

But  perhaps  some  of  my  readers  may  have  had  the  mis- 
fortune, like  the  \vriter  of  these  pages,  to  lose  their  mother 
before  they  could  know  her  or  appreciate  her  worth.  And. 
0,  what  reflections  are  those  of  which  we  are  conscious  at 
her  tomb !  If  we  could  but  recall  her  image,  or  the  accents 
of  her  voice,  or  the  thrilling  touch  of  a  mother's  caresses! 
Alas  !  all  this  is  denied  to  some,  and  there  is  nothing  left  to 
tell  them  how  she  looked  ;  for  there  were  few  pencils  then 
employed  to  transfer  the  image  of  the  living  upon  the 
canvass,  and  the  sunbeam  had  not  then  learned  to  engrave 
likenesses  upon  the  poHshed  plate.  Did  I  say  there  was 
nothinof  left  to  assist  the  imagination  in  the  creation  of  her 
image?  0,  yes,  every  virtue  which  brightens  our  character 
was  warmed  into  life  by  her  love.  For,  although  the  seeds 
of  those  virtues  which  adorn  our  characters  are  divine,  because 
they  came  from  heaven,  yet  were  they  planted  by  a  mother's 
hand  and  watered  by  a  mother's  tears ;  and  they  have 
matured  in  our  lives,  because  the  eye  of  a  covenant-keeping 
God  rested  upon  her  prayers  as  chronicled  in  His  book.     O, 


OF    OUR    DEPARTED.  63 

my  beloved,  my  sainted  mother!  Though  I  never  looked 
upon  thy  face  to  know  thee  ;  though  not  conscious  at  the 
time  that  it  was  the  music  of  thy  throbbing  heart  that  lulled 
me  into  peaceful  slumbers ;  though  unknown  to  the  sense 
of  sight,  my  spirit  knows  thee,  and  no  human  heart  has  ever 
thrilled  with  a  holier  love  than  mine  for  thee  !  Yet  again 
shall  I  be  folded  in  thine  embrace  ;  for  thy  tomb  reminds  me 
that  I  am  mortal,  and  thy  prayers  have  prevailed  with  God, 
for  thy  son  is  on  his  pilgrimage  to  Zion  ;  and,  when  weary 
and  wayworn  on  my  journey,  the  thought  that  I  shall  know 
thee  in  heaven  as  my  mother  animates  me  v^'ith  new  strength, 
and  I  press  onwards  to  thy  blessed  home  on  high. 

And  thus,  also,  may  we  linger  with  profit  around  the  grave 
which  contains  the  ashes  of  an  honored  father.  For,  "he 
being  dead  yet  speaketh."  Although  death  has  silenced  his 
tongue,  and  hushed  the  pulsations  of  that  noble  heart  which 
beat  in  unison  with  the  will  of  heaven,  he  still  lives !  He 
lives  in  that  legacy  of  good  principles,  and  in  the  force  of 
that  unsullied  example,  which  he  bequeathed  to  his  family. 
No  tongue  of  malice  can  taunt  us  with  any  gross  imperfections 
in  his  life  ;  for  his  character  was  transmitted  to  his  posterity 
untarnished  and  without  a  flaw,  and  will  forever  sparkle  as  a 
brilliant  gem  in  the  crown  of  his  children's  glory.  He  aimed 
to  impress  upon  the  hearts  of  his  offspring  lessons  of  virtue, 
and  to  write  in  their  minds  laws  of  purity  and  love.  It  was 
his  purpose  to  send  them  out  into  the  world  as  transcripts 
of  his"  own  character,  jeweled  with  many  and  lofty  virtues. 
Such  a  father's  principles  are  immortal,  and  will,  by  their 


64  VISITS    TO    THE    SEPULCHRES 

mysterious  but  potent  influence,  continue  to  mould  society 
for  generations  to  come.  Enshrined  in  the  afTections  of  those 
to  whom  he  gave  existence,  these  principles  will  be  incorpo- 
rated in  their  lives  and  perpetuated  by  their  children,  and 
will  form  a  part  of  that  moral  power  which  is  to  regenerate 
mankind  and  illumine  the  world  until  time  and  eternity 
blend.  The  good  never  die!  Their  names  are  linked  with 
virtue,  and  virtue  is  imperishable !  As  the  vessel  which 
glides  through  the  ocean  raises  waves  that  will  break  upon 
the  farthest  shore,  so  the  passage  of  a  good  man  through  this 
world  will  wake  influences  which  will  live  through  all  time, 
and,  passing  on  into  the  spirit  land,  will  vibrate  in  the 
raptures  of  the  redeemed  while  the  music  of  eternity  lasts. 
All  that  we  have  loved  in  a  father  we  will  recall  at  his  grave, 
and  lessons  long  forgotten  will  rise  up  in  all  their  beauty  and 
potency,  to  command  our  souls  and  to  control  our  lives. 
Every  visitation  to  his  tomb  will  strengthen  the  purpose,  and 
furnish  fresh  incentives,  to  walk  in  the  footsteps  of  him 
whose  "  hoary  head  was  a  crown  of  glory,  because  it  was 
found  in  the  way  of  righteousness." 

But  it  may  be  a  companion  to  whom  we  are  called  to  pay 
these  sad  offices!  A  husband  and  father  cut  down  in  the 
midst  of  life,  at  a  period  when  it  appeared  most  important 
that  he  should  live;  a  youthful  and  interesting  family  was 
budding  around  him ;  he  had  overcome  those  incipient 
struggles  which  are  incident  to  every  vocation  in  life,  and 
had  reached  that  degree  of  prosperity  which  enabled 'him  to 
devote  much  of  his  time  to  the  improvement  of  his  children. 


OF    OUK    DEPARTED.  65 

But  \vhile  the  sky  was  bright,  and  sunshine  dwelt  ujion  that 
circle  of  devoted  hearts,  suddenly  did  the  bolt  of  the 
destroyer  fall  and  blight  that  Eden.  The  stay  and  support  of 
dependent  ones  is  shattered — "the  strong  staff  and  the  beau- 
tiful rod  is  broken."  And  now,  from  that  home  which  death 
has  desolated,  there  issues  a  wail  of  wo !  The  cries  of  widowed 
love  and  helpless  orphanage  come  up  to  our  ears — "Have 
pity  upon  us,  have  pity  upon  us,  0,  our  friends;  for  the  hand 
of  the  Lord  hath  touched  us."  And  yet  is  it  well  for  that 
inconsolable  widow,  whose  wounds  are  kept  fresh  and  bleed- 
ing by  the  innocent  inquiries  of  her  little  ones  concerning 
their  beloved  father,  to  come  forth  from  her  secret  weepings 
and  her  home  of  sadness,  and  repair  to  the  grave  which  holds 
her  heart's  treasure.  For  there  may  she  be  reminded  how  the 
"  Rod  of  Jesse  was  once  bruised  and  laid  in  the  sepulchre," 
where  it  budded  and  blossomed,  and  so  became  a  staff,  able 
to  support  those  who  trust  to  it  for  comfort.  And  while  her 
tears  water  the  springing  grass  upon  the  new  grave  she  hears 
words  of  hope  and  consolation  descending  from  the  throne 
of  heaven — "  Leave  thy  fatherless  children  with  me  ;  I  will 
preserve  them ;  and  let  thy  widows  trust  in  me,  saith  the 
Lord."  For,  "He  is  a  father  unto  the  fatherless  and  a 
husband  unto  the  widow."  And  as  she  looks  out  upon  the 
landscape  and  up  to  the  out-spread  heavens,  and  sees  that 
the  Divine  protection  encircles  and  sustains  all  things,  from 
the  ponderous  world  to  the  little  atom,  and  from  the  tall 
archangel  to  that  worm  which  performs  its  evolutions  in  the 
dust  at  her  feet,  her  faith  gathers  strength,  and  light  springs 
6* 


66  VISITS    TO    THE    SEPULCHRES 

up  in  her  darkness,  and,  with  a  confiding  spirit,  she  commits 
herself  and  her  children  to  the  guardianship  of  that  Almighty 
being,  in  the  strength  of  whose  arm  and  in  the  love  of  whose 
heart  none  have  ever  yet  trusted  in  vain. 

Or  is  it  the  grave  of  a  devoted  wife  and  faithful  mother 
that  a  surviving  partner  is  to  visit  ?  What  can  be  more 
consoling,  than  occasionally  to  linger  around  the  hallowed 
scene  where  the  cherished  one  reposes  ?  He  there  feels  a 
nearness  to  her  which  he  cannot  realize  any  where  else ; 
and  he  experiences  a  mournful  pleasure  while  strewing  her 
tomb  with  fragrant  and  frail  memorials  of  her  beauty  and 
love.  And  is  not  that  the  most  appropriate  place  to  rehearse 
her  virtues  in  the  presence  of  his  children,  and  there  to 
admonish  thera  to  practise  those  lessons  with  which  she 
stored  their  minds  ?  The  loss  of  a  cherished  wife  and  beloved 
mother  occasions  a  deep  and  wide-spread  disaster.  "  In 
comparison  with  the  loss  of  a  wife  all  other  earthly  bereave- 
ments are  trifling.  The  wife !  she  who  fills  so  large  a  space 
in  the  domestic  heaven  —  she  who  is  so  busied  —  so  un- 
wearied in  laboring  for  the  precious  ones  around  her — bitter, 
bitter  is  the  tear  that  falls  on  her  cold  clay.  You  think  of 
her  now,  as  all  gentleness,  all  beauty  and  purity.  The  dear 
head  that  laid  upon  your  bosom  rests  in  the  still  darkness 
upon  a  pillow  of  clay !  The  hands  that  have  administered 
so  untiringly  are  folded,  white  and  cold,  beneath  the  gloomy 
portals !  The  heart  whose  every  beat  measured  an  eternity 
of  love  lies  under  your  feet !  The  flowers  she  bent  over 
with  smiles   bend   now  above   her  with   tears,  shaking  the 


OF    OUR    DEPARTED.  67 

dew  from  their  petals,  that  the  verdure  around  her  may  be 
kept  green  and  beautiful"  And  0,  how  tVill  those  hours  of 
past  endearments  rise  radiant  with  their  memories,  and  the 
images  of  her  beauty,  her  gentleness,  and  love,  start  up  like 
troops  of  angels  from  her  sepulchre  !  And  in  recounting  the 
excellencies  which  were  embodied  in  the  character  of  such  a 
loved  one,  the  sainted  seems  present,  and  we  almost  fancy 
that  she  participates  in  our  sadness. 

And  if  it  be  a  child  that  we  deplore,  then  have  we  com- 
panions in  our  sorrow,  and  visits  to  its  grave  will  afford  us 
occasions  for  mutual  improvement.  And  here  we  touch  a 
chord  which  sends  its  vibrations  through  many  hearts,  for 
who  has  not  lost  a  child  ?  What  flock  has  not  yielded  up 
one,  and  that  perhaps  the  first-born  lamb,  to  the  fold  of  the 
good  Shepherd  ?  There  are  few  families  where  there  is  not 
one  chair  vacant,  one  link  in  the  family  chain  broken ;  and 
what  can  be  more  soothing  to  anguished  hearts  than  visits 
to  their  litde  graves  ? — perhaps  it  is  the  first  one  of  the  family 
who  has  gone  to  the  "  house  appointed  for  all  the  living ;"  so 
that  a  voice  seems  to  call  from  its  ashes  not  to  forget  it  in 
its  loneliness.  And  what  an  array  of  little  incidents  con- 
nected with  their  brief  existence  rise  up  before  the  mind 
while  we  stand  by  that  little  mound.  We  recall  not  only  all 
that  was  pleasant  in  their  life,  but  all  that  we  experienced  in 
that  sad  hour  when  their  wasted  arms  encircled  our  neck  for 
the  last  time,  and  all  that  we  felt  when  we  saw  the  coffin 
descending  into  the  deep  grave.  Around  that  sacred  spot 
do  our  affections  still  linger.     Ah!  that  little  grave,  under 


68  VISITS    TO    THE    SEPULCHRES 

the  shadow  of  that  tree  where  he  had  often  played  —  the 
place  he  loved— ^ there  we  laid  him  in  our  sorrow.  But  we 
left  him  not  to  slumber  alone,  for  we  laid  our  hearts  with  him 
in  the  tomb.  We  had  often  stood  by  other  little  open  graves, 
and,  as  we  committed  "  dust  to  dust"  in  the  hope  of  the  resur- 
rection, we  thought  happy  lambs  are  these,  so  early  folded, 
and  wondered  why  their  peaceful  death  and  happy  departure 
to  heaven  should  cause  distress.  We  marvelled  that  tears 
should  flow  for  those  who  had  fled  from  the  sorrows  of  earth 
to  the  bosom  of  God.  But  we  understood  not  those  tears — 
we  knew  not  the  anguish  which  wrung  parental  hearts,  and 
expressed  itself  in  groans  that  shook  the  frame  —  until  we 
laid  the  snowy  form  of  our  own  beautiful  and  gentle 
boy  in  the  grave.  0,  then,  as  "bone  of  our  bone,  and  flesh 
of  our  flesh,"  was  committed  to  the  silent  mansion,  we  knew 
and  felt  it  all ;  yes,  all ;  and  we  would  have  deemed  it  a 
privilege  to  lie  down  with  him,  that  our  dust  might 
have  commingled  with  his.  Many  fond  hopes  do  parents 
form  concerning  their  ofi^spring;  for  they  are  buds  of  promise, 
which  they  would  see  unfold  in  all  their  loveliness.  And  so 
had  we  formed  expectations  of  our  boy  ;  we  thought  him  too 
beautiful  to  die :  but  God  had  a  place  for  him  in  his  cherub 
band,  and  so  He  sent  a  messenger  to  call  him  home.  Long 
and  earnest  were  our  vigils  and  prayers  around  his  couch. 
Anxious  to  retain  him  "  we  hoped  against  hope;"  but  in  the 
midnight  hour  his  spirit  went  up  on  the  wings  of  a  storm, 
that  seemed  to  wail  without  in  sympathy  with  that  tempest 
of  sorrow  which  swept  our  souls  that  night. 


OF    OUR    DErARTED.  09 

But  it  .  s  time  to  return  from  this  circle  of  reflections,  ^vhich 
I  suffered  to  enlarge  that  utterance  might  be  given  to  all 
hearts,  over  whatever  loved  one  they  might  mourn,  from  the 
hoary-headed  sire  to  the  little  child.  I  would,  hovv-ever, 
yet  observe,  that  visits  to  the  tombs  of  the  departed  should 
be  encouraged,  forasmuch  as  the  blessings  are  many  and 
valuable  which  the  bereaved  and  sorrowful  may  gather  there. 
The  sepulchre  of  a  friend  will  bring  with  great  urgency 
before  the  mind  subjects  which  cannot  be  contemplated 
without  benefit  to  the  soul.  For  while  those  cherished 
places  are  fruitful  in  their  suggestions  of  matter  for  profitable 
meditation  and  prayer,  they  clothe  these  subjects  with  an 
interest  and  beauty  which  they  possess  nowhere  else.  They 
afford  us  just  views  of  life,  of  death,  and  immortality,  and 
therefore  have  a  tendency  to  keep  the  heart  free  from  the 
bondage  of  this  world,  and  the  thoughts  associated  with  the 
realities  of  a  coming  eternity.  These  tombs  form  connecting 
links  between  the  mortal  and  the  immortal ;  they  are  scenes 
where  the  interests  of  the  earthly  and  the  heavenly,  the  things 
of  time  and  eternity,  commingle,  and  where  the  inhabitants 
of  glory  seem  to  meet  earth's  pilgrims,  to  inspire  them  with 
perseverance  in  their  upward  toil  to  a  crown  of  life.  But 
perhaps  you  say,  I  have  the  will  to  obey  these  suggestions 
here  offered,  for  they  are  consonant  with  the  inclinations  and 
promptings  of  my  nature,  but  this  disposition  is  not  coupled 
with  the  needed  ability  ;  Providence  has  ordained  that  my 
beloved  should  sleep  at  a  distance  from  my  abode !  Far 
beyond  the  ocean  did  death  meet  them,  and  they  now  repose 


70  VISITS    TO    THE    SEPULCHRES 

among  strangers.  In  that  distant  land  where,  it  was  thought, 
a  mild  and  equable  climate  would  successfully  contend 
with  disease  and  re-establish  a  shattered  constitution,  they 
died  far  from  home  and  friends!  Or,  in  that  sunny  isle 
whither  they  fled  with  a  feeble  hope  of  restoration  did  disease 
hurry  them  from  earth!  Or,  on  their  home-bound  voyage 
they  met  death  and  found  a  watery  grave.  Be  it  even  so  ; 
I  too  am  far  removed  from  the  sepulchres  of  my  departed, 
and  it  is  but  seldom  that  I  may  drop  a  tear  upon  their  ashes. 
But  a  merciful  Providence  has  furnished  us  with  the  necessary 
ability  to  carry  us  in  our  meditations  beyond  the  ocean,  or 
to  any  spot  within  the  circle  of  our  globe,  wherever  our 
beloved  sank  into  the  lap  of  earth.  And  if  the  privilege  of 
visiting  in  person  those  consecrated  places  be  denied  us,  let 
us  give  wings  to  our  spirits,  that  we  may  be  carried  to  the 
scene  of  their  repose !  Let  us  go  in  the  morning  when  the 
new  day  is  ushered  in  on  its  bright  wings,  and  while  our 
minds  are  fresh  and  pure  from  the  noisome  cares  of  the 
world  !  In  the  morning,  when  the  spring-flowers  scent  the 
air  with  their  sweetness,  and  the  dew-drops,  like  showers  of 
diamonds,  sparkle  in  the  sunbeam,  and  remind  us  of  the 
glory  of  those  "  who  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament, 
and  as  the  stars  for  ever  and  ever !"  And  let  the  evening 
hour  woo  our  meditations  to  the  far-off  grave,  when  the 
glorious  orb  of  day  is  sinking  into  his  bed  of  gorgeous  and 
golden-tinged  clouds  in  the  western  sky,  and  the  stillness  of 
the  evening  hour  reminds  us  of  their  peaceful  passage, 
in    the  light  of  a  joyful  hope,  from  this  scene  of  turmoil 


OF    OUR    DEPARTED.  71 

into  the  quiet  and  beautiful  home  of  the  blest!  At  some 
such  hour  take  your  position  in  thought  by  the  graves 
of  your  cherished  ones,  and,  wherever  that  spot  may  be,  we 
will  stand  beside  you,  and  togedier  we  will  interrogate  the 
sepulchre  for  such  lessons  as  it  may  be  able  to  impart ; 
for  it  may  be  that,  as  it  has  caused  us  sorrow^,  it  may  also 
give  us  joy !  and  as  it  has  filled  our  eyes  with  weeping,  it 
may  fill  our  hearts  with  peace  ;  for  the  same  soil  which 
produces  the  thorn  that  wounds  us  also  nourishes  the 
flower  whose  fragrance  causes  us  to  forget  the  pain.  For, 
behold  !  the  sepulchre  is  no  longer  that  darkly-terrible  and 
loathsome  receptacle  since  the  hand  of  the  great  Redeemer 
has  scattered  in  its  mould  the  seeds  of  immortality  :  for  he 
"  who  has  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light "  has  been 
down  in  its  chambers  and  illumined  its  darkness  with  His 
glory!  He  has  sanctified  the  shrines  of  the  dead,  and  thus 
constituted  the  grave  a  peaceful  retreat,  and  the  safe  abode 
of  those  who  fall  asleep  in  Jesus,  where  they  shall  slumber 
on  until  waked  to  behold  the  raptures  and  glories  of  Eternal 
Life. 


CHAPTER  FOURTH. 

LESSONS    WHICH    THE    SEPULCHRE    IMPARTS. 

The  lessons  which  the  sepulchre  is  fitted  to  teach  are 
various,  instructive,  soothing,  and  hopeful.  They  impres- 
sively set  forth  the  momentous  interests  vrhich  cluster  around 
life,  death,  and  eternity.  He  is  indeed  a  dull  pupil  who 
does  not  improve  under  the  instructions  of  such  a  master. 
For  his  lessons  are  connected  with  all  our  hopes,  enter  into 
all  our  pleasures,  and  shed  a  new  and  solemn  aspect  over  all 
conditions,  over  all  stations,  and  over  all  the  phases  of  our 
present  existence.  They  are  adapted  to  all  capacities ;  those 
necessary  and  useful  are  so  simple  that  the  comprehension 
of  a  child  masters  them — and  yet  pregnant  with  the  profound- 
est  mysteries  that  have  ever  baffled  the  laboring  intellect  of  the 
ripe  philosopher.  They  are  fitted  to  make  all  learners  better 
and  wiser.  For  these  instructions  kindle  hope  in  the  bosoms 
of  the  good  calculated  to  incite  to  the  attainment  of  greater 
moral  excellence,  and  cast  such  dark  and  deep  shadows  over 
the  profligate  soul  as  should  cause  it  to  labor  for  entrance 
into  the  light  of  God's  favor.  So  humbling  in  their 
influence  as  to  make  all  ambitious  aspirings  kiss  the  dust ;  so 
sublime  in  their  tendency  as  to  exalt  the  thoughts  and 
expectations  above  the  stars.  August  teacher  of  the  nations ! 
We  venture  into  thy  presence  !     We  pause  in  thy  shadow  ! 

(72) 


LESSONS    WHICH    THE    SEPULCHRE    IMPARTS.  73 

We  bow  at  thy  awful  shrine  to  hear  thy  utterances !  Thou 
art  a  universal  teacher,  declaring  the  same  truths  in  all  climes, 
in  all  ages,  and  in  all  the  tongues  of  earth.  Thou  art  a 
faithful  instructor,  neither  awed  by  the  pomp  of  kings  nor  the 
power  of  tyrants,  nor  bribed  by  gold ;  thou  declarest  the 
same  humiliating  truths  to  the  loftiest  as  to  the  lowliest,  to 
the  wise  and  to  the  ignorant.  Thou  art  an  aged  and  vene- 
rable teacher !  Six  thousand  years  have  left  their  wrinkles 
upon  thy  brow,  and  the  hoar  of  sixty  centuries  is  upon  thy 
locks.  The  progenitor  of  our  race  was  thy  first  pupil ;  the 
Patriarchs  were  thy  disciples.  The  wild  and  wandering 
hordes  of  the  desert,  and  the  civilized  dwellers  in  ancient 
cities,  the  Persians  and  Medes,  the  Egyptians  and  Jews,  the 
Grecians  and  the  Romans,  were  all  learners  in  thy  school. 
Thou  hast  known  every  nation  in  its  varied  fortunes  and  in  its 
final  history  ;  for  one  after  another  was  conducted  into  thy 
mansions.  Thou  art  acquainted  with  all  men,  from  the 
exiled  lord  of  Eden  to  the  one  who  is  this  moment  consigned 
to  thy  keeping ;  for  all  have  become  thy  guests  and  subjects 
of  thy  empire.  Awful  sage !  we  approach  thee  with  deep 
solemnity,  but  without  fear ;  for  the  Man  of  Calvary  has 
illumined  thy  stern  countenance  with  the  light  of  His  triumph 
over  thy  domain  — we  come,  as  docile  scholars,  to  hear  from 
thy  lips  the  lessons  which  thou  art  ready  to  impart.  Thou 
dost  speak  to  the  thoughtful  of  the  value  of  our  present  ex- 
istence, and  its  outflows  and  bearings  upon  immortality;  but 
especially  dost  thou  teach  us.  First:  —  The  End  of  all  the 
Living.  The  inevitable  doom  of  dissolution  is  upon  us,  and 
7 


74  LESSONS    WHICH    THE    SEPULCHRE    IMPARTS. 

all   of   US   shall  lie  down  in  the  sepulchre  to  slumber  the 
sleep  of  death. 

"  Our  lives  are  rivers  gliding  free 
To  that  unfathomed,  boundless  sea, 

The  silent  grave ! 
Thither  all  earthly  pomp  and  boast 
Roll  to  be  swallowed  np  and  lost, 

In  one  dark  wave  I" 

It  is  manifest  to  all  who  are  given  to  observation,  that  the 
Divine  Being  has  been  particularly  solicitous  to  impress  upon 
the  minds  of  all  his  rational  creatures  the  fact  that  they  must 
die.  And  to  this  end  he  has  so  abundantly  provided  the 
sources  of  that  knowledge  which  relates  to  our  present  life 
and  its  issues,  that  none  can  be  ignorant  of  the  last  great 
change  which  awaits  us  all.  The  Lord  knew  full  well  that 
man  would  be  liable  to  forget,  not  only  that  he  would  have  to 
meet  death,  but  also  that,  in  the  multitude  of  objects  which 
challenge  his  attention  and  press  upon  his  consideration,  he 
was  likely  to  lose  sight  of  the  importance  of  constant  pre- 
paration for  this  event.  That  there  is  such  a  tendency  in  all, 
none  will  presume  to  question.  And,  besides  the  probability 
of  having  our  thoughts  exclusively  occupied  with  things  seen 
and  temporal,  there  is,  also,  an  unwillingness  on  the  part  of 
many  to  have  their  enjoyments  disturbed,  their  pleasures 
embittered,  and  their  business  trammeled  by  meditations  on 
this  subject.  And  hence,  if  thoughts  of  death  do  arise  in 
some  minds,  they  are  regarded  as  unwelcome  intruders  and 
summarily  ejected.  Why  should  I,  says  one,  suffer  my 
thoughts  to   run    upon  a  subject  which    might   render  me 


LESSONS    WHICH    THE    SEPULCHRE    IMPAIITS.  75 

gloomy,  and  give  me  a  disrelish  for  business?  Let  the  aged 
^Yho  are  trembUng  under  the  weight  of  years  ponder  the 
solemnities  of  the  grave  !  Let  those  who  are  stricken  with  a 
fotal  malady  be  occupied  with  such  reflections  as  are 
suited  to  a  transition  from  time  to  eternity;  but,  as  for  me,  I 
have  other  and  more  agreeable  duties  to  discharge ;  at  least 
for  the  present  I  will  not  surrender  myself  to  such  exercises 
as  might  cool  my  ardor,  or  moderate  my  exertions  in  the 
race  whh  my  competitors,  for  the  honor  and  wealth  of  this 
world !  And  it  is  not  singular  that  thoughts  of  death  are 
unwelcome  to  him  on  whose  path  the  golden  god  has 
scattered  his  shining  dust,,  and  over  whose  life  forbidden 
pleasures  shed  their  enchanting  power ;  for  the  glitter  of 
earthly  prosperity  blinds  his  mind  to  all  that  is  great  and 
glowing  in  the  things  of  eternity,  and  the  seductive  charms 
of  a  delusive  world  hold  his  spirit  a  willing  captive  of  the 
dust ;  so  that,  while  he  yields  his  reluctant  assent  to  the  truth 
that  there  is  a  time  to  die,  it  becomes  not  one  of  those 
strong  convictions  whose  influence  is  heard  in  the  conversa- 
tion and  seen  in  the  conduct!  And  while  he  is  continually 
reminded  in  the  decay  around  him,  that  all  created  objects 
are  subject  to  those  laws  of  mutation  whose  silent  but 
resisdess  operations  are  carrying  all  things  to  their  dissolution, 
he  does  not  allow  his  soul  to  be  borne  on  the  strong  pinions 
of  holy  aspirations  to  that  world  where  all  thino-s  remain 
unblighted.  The  vanishing  cloud,  luminous  with  the  sunset 
glow,  is  an  emblem  of  those  bright  things  which  melt  away 
under  his  touch ;   while  the  fading  leaf  and  the  witherino 


76  LESSONS    WHICH   THE    SEPULCHRE    IMPARTS. 

flower  continually  announce  that  "the  fashion  of  this 
world  passeth  away!"  Yes,  all  things  material  have  their 
beginning,  their  growth,  their  maturity,  and  decay ;  from  the 
delicate  flower  which  blooms  on  the  bleak  and  rocky  clitl,  to 
the  brightest  luminary  in  the  firmament  on  high  ;  from  the 
atom  that  is  constantly  diminished  by  the  friction  of  atmos- 
pheric waves,  to  the  granite  that  yields  particle  after  particle 
to  the  kissing  billow  of  the  deep  ;  all  —  all  are  passing  away. 
The  pen  of  history  is  daily  chronicling  on  her  pages  the 
names  of  the  great  who  had  filled  the  world  with  their  fame  ! 
So  numerous  are  those  who  claim  the  admiration  of  the 
world,  that,  with  all  the  dazzle-  of  military  renown,  or  the 
lustre  of  successful  statesmanship,  the  charms  of  literature 
and  science,  and  the  more  durable  radiance  of  unsullied 
virtue  —  few  of  the  multitude  of  the  great  who  have  passed 
away  from  among  the  living  receive  that  homage  which  they 
deserve.  The  remembrance  of  not  a  few  is  displaced  by 
other  illustrious  characters  who  have  risen  up  in  their  places ; 
but  how  many  are  daily  passing  into  eternity  who  were  never 
known  beyond  the  immediate  circle  which  was  the  sphere 
of  their  exertion.  As  the  gentle  rains  which  descend  upon 
the  ocean  never  ruffle  its  bosom  nor  hush  its  roar,  so  there 
are  thousands  daily  departing  without  producing  any  percep- 
tible effect  upon  society!  Many  remain  unknown  while 
living  and  unsung  when  dead ;  yet  all  men  see  enough  of 
change  and  death  within  the  circle  of  their  observation, 
limited  as  it  may  be,  to  assure  them  that  here  they  have  no 
abiding  city :  and  their  own  experience  reiterates  the  lessons 


LESSOXS    WHICH    THE    SEPULCHRE    IMPARTS.  77 

of  their  mortality,  if  they  have  3ii  eye  to  see,  a  mind  to 
reflect,  and  a  heart  to  feel.  All  have  heard,  not  only  from 
the  holy  word  and  the  dying-  pillcw,  but  from  all  objects, 
that  "it  is  appointed  unto  man-  once  to  die!"  All  are 
conscious  that  whatsoever  is  earthly  is  hastening  towards  a 
dissolution,  either  immediate  or  remote  ;  so  that  it  scarcely 
seems  necessary  to  have  a  monitor,  like  Philip  of  Macedon,  to 
remind  us  that  we  are  mortal.  For,  in  all  our  occupations 
and  walks,  we  look  upon  no  living  thing  which  is  exempt 
from  the  tremendous  necessity  of  dying.  I  behold  the 
magnificent  forest  robed  in  its  leafy  apparel,  the  home  of 
beasts  and  birds  and  millions  of  insects  ;  but  of  all  those 
leaves  w'hich  flutter  in  the  breeze  there  is  not  one  which  is 
not  destined  to  fade  —  of  all  those  beasts  that  roam  its  path- 
less wilds  —  of  all  the  birds  that  warble  their  morning  and 
evening  songs  through  that  wilderness,  there  is  not  one  bird, 
or  beast,  that  must  not  die.  In  the  sphere  of  my  labors  I 
meet  thousands  of  my  fellow-creatures  with  greater  or  less 
promise  of  a  long  and  sunny  future,  but  that  earthly  future 
has  a  limit.  I  look  over  my  assembled  flock,  and,  as  my  eye 
wanders  from  the  hoary- headed  pilgrim  over  those  manly 
forms  where  strong  hearts  beat,  and  the  current  of  life  flows 
full  —  and  over  youth  flushed  with  beauty  and  health,  even 
down  to  the  little  child  that  I  have  consecrated  to  God  at  the 
baptismal  font  —  among  these  thousands  there  is  not  one  who 
is  not  on  his  way  to  the  sepulchre  ;  among  all  the  warm 
hands  which  I  have  or  may  yet  grasp  in  friendship  there  is 
not  one  that  shall  not  moulder  in  the  tomb — not  one  counte- 
7* 


78  LESSONS    WHICH    THE    SEPULCHRE    IMPARTS. 

nance  now  animate  with  life  but  will  be  stricken  with  the 
palor  of  death  —  not  a  voice  whose  friendly  greetings  vibrate 
through  my  soul  but  will  be  hushed  in  the  silence  of  the 
grave  —  there  is  not  an  eye  that  glows  with  affection  that 
shall  not  grow  dim — not  a  brow  clothed  with  thought  but 
shall  be  shrouded  with  the  shadow  of  death  —  and  not  one 
heart  which  beats  in  unison  with  mine  but  will  one  day  be 
pulseless. 

What  an  evil  art  thou,  0  !  death,  M'hen  I  consider  the  deso- 
lations which  mark  thy  path !  When  we  think  of  the  Edens 
which  thou  dost  blight,  the  hopes  which  thou  dost  quench, 
the  hearts  which  thou  dost  still,  and  the  homes  which  thou 
makest  desolate,  do  we  not  rightly  call  thee  the  great 
destroyer  ?  Aye,  thou  art  not  satisfied  with  those  whom  thou 
hast  already  hurried  to  thy  mansions,  for  thou  hast  set  thy 
mark  upon  all  the  living,  aged  and  young,  parent  and  child 
—  all,  all  must  die. 

Yet,  notwithstanding  this  truth  is  echoed  by  the  moans  of 
the  dying  gale  and  the  expiring  gentle  breeze ;  by  the  closing 
day  and  the  ever-changing  aspect  of  the  world  ;  by  the  earlh 
and  the  heavens ;  there  is  no  place  where  we  realize  it  so 
Avell,  and  with  so  much  profit,  as  at  the  sepulchres  of  our 
departed.  JMore  impressive  are  its  instructions  on  this  subject 
than  the  fall  of  empires,  or  the  wasting  pestilence  ;  for  no- 
where can  I  feel  my  own  frailty  so  well  as  at  the  grave  of  my 
friend.  I  may  take  my  station  on  the  banks  of  a  flowing 
stream,  whose  waters  are  hastening  with  their  tribute  to  the 
sea,  and  it  may  teach  me  the  rapidity  of  Time's  restless 


LESSONS    WHICH    THE    SEPULCHRE    IMPARTS.  79 

current  which  is  bearing  me  onward  to  eternity.  I  may 
watch  the  morning  vapor  as  it  lazily  hangs  around  the  moun- 
tain's side,  and  see  its  multiform  evolutions  as  it  rises  and 
circles  around  the  brow  of  the  highest  peak,  and  then  instantly 
vanisheth  into  thin  air,  and  I  behold  in  its  short-lived  move- 
ments an  emblem  of  human  existence  ;  for  it  seems  to  echo 
the  question  in  its  vanishing,  "  What  is  your  life  ?  It  is 
even  as  a  vapor,  which  appeareth  for  a  little  while  and  then 
vanisheth  away."  I  may  watch  the  flying  clouds  ;  and  their 
shadows,  as  they  glide  over  the  plain,  say  to  me,  "  Man  is  a 
shadow  that  continueth  not."  I  bend  over  the  drooping 
flower,  and  it  says,  "  Man  that  is  born  of  woman  is  of  few 
days,  and  full  of  trouble  ;  he  cometh  forth  like  a  flower,  and 
is  cut  down."  And  a  thousand  objects  around  me  may  utter 
the  same  lessons ;  but  they  fall  not  on  my  heart  with  that 
tremendous  force  with  which  the  grave  of  my  departed 
invests  them.  At  the  sepulchre  of  my  friend  I  realize  it 
more  than  anywhere  else,  that  I  must  die.  My  friend  who 
now  slumbers  in  this  tomb  lived  as  I  live,  hoped  as  I  hope, 
and  rejoiced  as  I  rejoice.  He  was  conscious  of  all  those 
emotions,  whether  pleasurable  or  painful,  \\hich  I  now  expe- 
rience. He  formed  one  of  that  busy,  bustling  crowd,  as  I  do 
this  day.  He  was  honorably  known  in  the  halls  of  legislation 
— in  the  court — in  the  Senate — in  the  pulpit — in  the  walks  of 
business.  He  was  prominent  or  humble — but  he  ivas  a  living 
man.  ]\Ien  bowed  to  him  in  respectful  recognition.  His 
name  was  carried  to  distant  parts  on  his  vessel,  or  to  flu'-ofF 
markets  on  his  wares.     His  opinion  was  solicited  in  all  great 


80  LESSONS    WHICH    THE    SEPULCHRE    IMPARTS. 

public  movements ;  and  his  judgment  quoted  in  all  im- 
portant projects,  as  they  might  affect  the  civil  and  commercial 
interests  of  the  land.  For  years  it  was  known  through  the 
country  that  he  did  business  on  such  a  street,  and  at  that 
number.  Tens  of  thousands  read  his  name  penciled  in 
golden  letters  on  the  sign.  "  But  the  places  that  knew  him 
shall  know  him  no  more." 

Am  I  the  head  of  a  family  ?  So  was  he.  For  years  was 
he  the  strong  staff  which  supported  d  numerous  household. 
A  gentle  wife  greeted  him  on  the  evening  of  each  day,  for 
many  years,  on  his  return  from  the  counting-house,  the  ofBce, 
the  farm,  or  the  shop  ;  and  sons  and  daughters  showered 
upon  him  their  smiles,  and  delighted  him  with  their  affectionate 
caresses.  For  such  a  long  period  did  he  give  permanence 
to  the  joy  and  happiness  of  that  domestic  circle,  that  its 
members  w^ere  scarcely  conscious  that  these  blessings 
belonged  to  the  things  that  were  transient.  But  the  fatal  day 
came  when  they  were  roused  from  their  dreams  to  behold 
that  all  was  vanity.  The  husband  and  the  father  can  be  so 
no  more,  for  he  is  stricken  with  death. 

Do  I  sometimes  join  in  innocent  amusements  and  pleasures, 
which  lure  us  aside  from  the  monotonous  round  of  duties  and 
anxieties,  and  cause  us  to  forget,  for  a  few  hours,  the  vexa- 
tious cares  and  annoyances  associated  with  our  callings  ?  He 
allowed  himself  the  same  relaxations;  and  moved  as  gaily  as 
any  within  that  circle  of  enchanting  scenes  and  pleasures. 
But  in  the  assemblies  where  his  entrance  produced  an 
involuntary  thrill,  and  his  presence  drew  a  thousand  sparkling 


LESSOXS    T\'IIICH    THE    SEPULCHRE    IMPARTS.  81 

eyes,  he  is  no  more  seen,  and  his  name  is  seklom,  if  ever, 
uttered.  He  who  had  an  ahiiost  world-wide  fame  is  now- 
only  remembered  by  a  few  loving  hearts.  He  sleeps  in  the 
lonely  grave  ;  and  but  few  of  those  who  pass  by  take  lime  to 
spell  out  his  name  upon  the  dim  marble. 

Am  I  known  and  loved  in  the  sanctuary  of  God  ?  He, 
too,  was  wont  to  mingle  in  the  devotions  of  the  assemblies 
of  saints.  For  many  years  his  seat  was  seldom  vacant,  for 
he  was  known  as  a  pillar  in  the  church.  No  interest  of  the 
congregation  did  he  allow  to  languish;  no  charity  that  did 
not  receive  from  him  a  cordial  support.  He  filled  the  widow's 
heart  with  music,  and  dried  the  iears  of  the  orphan.  He 
responded  to  the  call  of  the  perishing,  and  sent  on  golden 
winffs  the  news  of  salvation  to  the  far-off  heathen.  And 
because  he  wrought  long  and  well  in  the  vineyard  of  the 
Lord,  he  was  a  pattern  of  good  works.  But  it  was  only  for 
the  day  of  life  that  the  Master  had  hired  him  ;  and  when  the 
shades  of  evening  came,  he  was  called  up  to  receive  his 
reward.  Here  at  his  grave  all  his  life  is  re-enacted  before 
my  mind;  and  as  the  drama  closes  in  this  tomb,  Lfeel  that 
this  is  the  end  of  man — this  the  goal  of  his  earthly  existence. 

My  friend  died.  He  who  moved  in  the  same  circle  in 
which  I  move,  held  the  same  relations  to  the  family  and  to 
the  world  which  I  hold,  he  is  gone  to  the  house  appointed  for 
all  the  living.  That  sun  which  now  shines  upon  his  grave, 
and  those  stars  which  now  rise  upon  his  lowly  abode  —  all 
nature  —  the  earth,  and  the  spangled  heavens  upon  which  I 
now  look,  were  contemplated  and  admired  by  him  as  I  now 


82  LESSONS   WHICH    THE    SEPULCHRE    IMPARTS. 

admire  them.  But  here  he  sleeps,  "while  they  roll  on  and 
shine ;  and  so,  too,  shall  I  slumber  underneath  the  sod, 
^Yhile  iheir  rays  fall  silently  around  my  mouldering  dust. 

Aye,  my  departed  one  once  stood  with  me  at  this  spot,  and 
thought  and  felt  as  I  do  now  as  he  looked  upon  the  graves 
of  others  ;  but  sickness  came — death  came— and  the  funeral 
obsequies  ;  and  here  now  he  reposes  until  waked  by  the  voice 
of  the  Son  of  God.  Mortal  —  all  are  mortal;  I  will  not 
thrust  you  from  my  mind,  ye  thoughts  of  my  frailty,  for  ye 
are  messengers  come  from  heaven's  high  throne,  to  assist  in 
binding  ray  fleeting  life  to  that  which  is  immutable  and 
eternal.  I  know,  I  feel,  I  too  must  die!  True,  this  world  is 
bright  and  beautiful,  and  it  wearies  me  not ;  health  flows 
through  my  veins  and  glows  in  my  cheek ;  strength  nerves 
my  arm,  and  strong  are  the  pulsations  of  my  heart ;  my 
business,  my  family,  and  the  many  objects  which  I  wish  to 
accomplish,  do  press  and  clamor  for  death's  delay;  but  he, 
the  inexorable  King  of  Terror,  heeds  not  their  voice,  but 
disdains  their  entreaties.  Death  is  coming ;  he  has  been 
approaching  me  year  by  year,  and  day  by  day.  The  passing 
hours,  and  minutes,  and  seconds,  tell  me  as  they  fly  that  he 
is  coming  nearer.  With  an  eagle's  eye  he  holds  me  in  view, 
and  with  a  lion's  heart  he  follows  upon  my  path  ;  in  the  city 
or  in  the  forest,  by  land  or  by  sea,  by  night  and  by  day,  he 
never  falters  nor  wearies  !  0  !  yes,  I  feel  it  as  I  gaze  upon 
yonder  setting  sun,  that  I  have  one  day  less  —  and  now 
that  gorgeous  glow  upon  the  mountain  top  vanishes,  and 
dies  away  in  the  starlight  heavens — yes,  one  hour  less  to  live, 


LESSONS    AVIIICII    THE    SEPULCHRE    IMPARTS.  83 

since  I  came  to  this  tomb  to  commune  with  the  dead.  Yes, 
my  last  sickness  will  come  —  my  physician  will  be  calm  and 
silent,  he  will  breathe  no  word  of  hope  —  my  wife  and 
children  will  weep  around  my  bed — and  I  will  see  the  shadow 
of  him  who  has  so  long  pursued  me  fall  upon  my  path — and 
I  shall  feel  his  skeleton  hands  clutch  my  heart-strings,  while 
his  icy  embrace  freezes  my  blood,  and  the  tide  of  life  stands 
still !  All  still  —  only  the  sobs  of  weeping  loved  ones  will 
echo  through  that  chamber  where  I  bowed  to  the  bidding:  of 
death.  Cold  and  insensible  shall  I  lie,  while  the  last  vigils 
of  friendship  shall  be  kept  for  the  last  night  that  I  shall  ever 
spend  in  my  long  and  fondly-cherished  home.  And  the 
morning  light  of  another  day  will  break,  but  I  shall  not 
welcome  the  rosy  morn.  The  chirpings  of  the  swallow  and 
notes  of  the  robin,  that  so  often  waked  me  to  join  in  their 
song  of  praise,  will  not  ravish  my  ears.  The  beautiful  land- 
scape, over  which  my  eyes  wandered  with  so  much  delight  in 
early  morn,  will  not  be  surveyed  by  me.  Friends  will  gather 
around  me,  and  draw  aside  the  curtains  to  let  in  the  light 
of  day,  that  they  may  look  upon  my  face,  but  I  will  not  know 
it.  They  will  caress  and  kiss  the  lifeless  form,  but  my  heart 
shall  not  thrill  under  the  pressure  of  affection's  hand,  nor  my 
lips  throw  back  the  glow  of  friendship's  kiss.  No,  I  shall  be 
dead!  They  will  shroud  me  for  my  burial,  but  I  shall  not 
behold  my  white  apparel.  They  will  lay  me  in  the  coffin, 
and  I  shall  offer  no  resistance.  Many  familiar  friends  will 
gaze  upon  me  there,  but  I  shall  not  return  their  look.  And 
those  whom  I  most  loved  will  give  their  last  long  look,  and 


84  LESSONS    WHICH    THE    SEPULCHRE    IxMPARTS. 

I  am-  shut  out  from  the  world  in  which  I  Hved  and  moved. 
Gently  is  the  lid  laid  over  my  face  and  screwed  fast.  Neigh- 
bors and  friends  are  gathered,  and  I  am  carried  out  of  my 
house  never  more  to  return.  Even  my  name  will  pass  from 
it,  and  strangers  will  dwell  there.  The  funeral  cortege  will 
move  away  from  those  ancient  trees,  and  over  that  familiar 
road  to  the  sepulchres  of  my  fathers.  And  there  they  will 
lay  me  in  the  grave,  as  they  did  my  friend  by  whose  tomb 
I  write.  And  the  man  of  God  will  utter  the  solemn 
but  hopeful  words,  "  We  commit  this  body  to  the  ground  — 
earth  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes,  and  dust  to  dust  —  in  hope 
of  the  general  resurrection  and  the  life  of  the  world  to 
come." 

And,  having  performed  this  last  sad  office,  they  will  return 
to  their  homes  and  leave  me.  I  shall  be  alone  in  the  grave  ; 
alone  shall  I  slumber.  I  shall  no  more  speak.  Strangers 
will  read  my  brief  history,  Avhich  the  hand  of  friendship  may 
chronicle  upon  the  marble,  and  then  turn  away  wdth  a  sigh, 
aftd  say,  such  is  the  end  of  man.  Those  in  whose  memories 
I  may  live  will  often  come  to  strew  flowers  upon  my  grave 
and  drop  a  tear  of  affection.  They  will  plant  the  rose,  the 
lily,  and  the  evergreen,  as  emblems  of  a  fragrant  and  beauti- 
ful immortality  which  they  assign  me  in  the  Paradise  of  God. 
All  this  will  take  place  with  me  —  yes,  all  may  say  with  me. 
Ah!  it  is  a  solemn  thought,  that  every  step  brings  us  nearer 
to  our  enemy;  a  solemn  thought  that  there  is  but  one 
passage  to  eternity,  and  that  lies  through  "  death's  iron  gate." 
For— 


LESSONS   WHICH   THE   SEPULCHRE   IMPARTS.  85 

"  Sure  'tis  a  serious  thing  to  die,  mj^  soul ! 
What  a  strange  mouieat  must  it  be,  ■when  near 
Thy  journey's  end  thoU  hast  the  gulf  in  view  ! 
That  awful  gulf  no  mortal  e'er  repass'd, 
To  tell  what's  doing  on  the  other  side ! 
Kature  runs  back  and  shudders  at  the  sight, 
And  every  life-string  bleeds  at  thought  of  parting." 

Yes,  the  moment  of  death  is  one  of  thrilUng  solemnity  ; 
yet  all  must  meet  it,  for  "there  is  a  time  to  die."  But, 
blessed  be  God,  he  can  arm  us  with  that  moral  preparation 
which  will  carry  us  triumphantly  through  the  last  conflict,  and 
enable  us  to  echo  back  from  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death,  for  the  encouragement  of  the  living,  "  0  grave!  where 
is  thy  victory  ?  0  death  !  where  is  thy  sting  ?  The  sting  of 
death  is  sin  ;  and  the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law.  But,  thanks 
be  to  God,  who  giveth  us  the  victory  through  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ."  The  Christian  knows  that  the  grave  is  the  home  of 
the  earthly,  the  bosom  of  God  of  the  spiritual.  For,  as  all 
material  things  are  in  motion,  and  will  only  rest  when  they 
find  their  appropriate  centre,  so  the  spirit  which  lives  within 
us  will  only  rest  when  borne  to  the  bosom  of  Him  who 
formed  it.  As  the  vapor  that  is  lifted  from  the  bosom  of  the 
sea  never  pauses  until  it  has  performed  its  mission  and 
returned  to  its  parent,  so  the  soul  finds  true  repose  only  after 
it  has  as  faithfully  performed  its  work,  and,  by  the  force  of 
that  spiritual  law  which  is  designed  to  govern  it,  it  is  drawn 
up  to  God.  There  it  shall  live  forever.  And,  as  I  look  upon 
this  wasting  world  and  upon  my  decaying  frame,  I  rejoice 


86  LESSONS    WHICH    THE    SEPULCHRE    IMPARTS. 

in  the  consciousness  that  I  shall  live  when  the  heavens  and 
the  earth  are  no  more, 

"  My  spirit  shall  return  to  Him 

That  gave  its  heavenly  spark ; 
Yet  think  not,  sun,  it  shall  be  dim, 

When  thou  thyself  art  dark ! 
No !  it  shall  live  again,  and  shine 
In  bliss  unknown  to  beams  of  thine  ; 

By  Him  recalled  to  breath, 
Who  captive  led  captivity, 
Who  robbed  the  grave  of  victory, 

And  took  the  sting  from  death !" 


CHAPTER  FIFTH. 


THE    GLORY    OF    MAN. 


"  Our  glories  float  between  the  eartli  and  heaven, 
Like  clouds  that  seem  pavilions  of  the  sun, 
And  are  the  iilaythings  of  the  casual  winds." 


At  the  end  of  life's  journey  stands  the  open  sepulchre  to 
receive  us,  and  to  enclose  all  of  man  that  is  material  and 
shadowy.  Only  that  which  is  spiritual,  that  has  emanated 
from  us,  will  not  go  down  into  its  darkness.  As  inquirers 
after  the  real  and  not  imaginary  worth  of  the  things  around 
us,  we  must  not  forget  the  true  stand-point  from  which  to 
survey  them  ;  for,  the  position  we  occupy,  and  the  medium 
through  which  we  view  objects,  greatly  influence  the  mind 
in  the  conceptions  which  it  forms  of  the  real  or  supposed 
character  of  those  objects.  When  we  look  forward  through 
life  we  are  liable  to  form  an  improper  estimate  of  the  value 
of  things;  for,  if  we  look  through  that  medium  of  delusive 
worth  which  the  world  has  thrown  around  the  objects  of 
human  pursuit,  then  will  we  realize  in  our  after  experience 
that  the  poet  has  truly  sung  — 

"  Distance  lends  enchantment  to  the  view." 

(87) 


88  THE    GLORY    OF    MAN. 

Bui  svhat  sad  mistakes  do  those  make  who  contemplate 
life  from  such  a  point,  that  everything  appears  in  a  reversed 
character,  and  in  a  magnified  light.  To  the  untaught  eye 
the  glow-worm  is  larger  and  more  resplendent  than  the  orb 
which  wheels  in  cloudless  majesty  far  out  in  immensity,  and 
which  appears  to  the  untutored  observer  as  a  feebly-burning 
taper.  And  equally  false  are  the  notions  which  men  some- 
times form  of  what  is,  or  is  not,  desirable,  permanent,  or  of 
intrinsic  value,  when  deciding  as  to  the  objects  of  their 
pursuit,  or  the  ends  for  which  they  propose  to  live  and  to 
toil.  The  unsanctified  mind  is  restless;  ^finding  no  elements 
of  solid  peace  within  itself,  it  seeks  beyond  and  without 
itself  the  sources  of  that  haijpiness  for  which  it  yearns.  And 
in  these  efTorts  it  may,  after  repeated  exertions,  form  for 
itself  a  paradise  in  the  future,  and  clothe  it  with  such  an 
aspect  of  loveliness,  and  people  it  with  such  objects  as  a 
morbid  fancy  may  suggest  as  needful  accompaniments  of  an 
earthly  Eden.  And  if  an  indulgent  Providence  permits  man 
to  reach  the  designated  post  of  honor,  or  that  state  of  affluence 
which  he  had  pictured  in  such  lively  colors  —  if  a  few  whirl- 
ing years  have  thrown  him  upon  that  sunny  eminence  that 
flashed  so  long  and  brilliantly  to  his  eye,  in  the  conscious 
possession  of  that  of  which  he  had  dreamed,  and  which  he 
had  coveted,  there  is  a  momentary  gush  of  joy  that  sheds 
its  exhilarating  influence  over  his  soul  —  but  it  is  not  perma- 
nent ;  for,  he  has  scarcely  tasted  the  enjoyments  of  his  new 
position  before  they  are  exhausted,  or  cease  to  afford  delight. 
No  sooner  has  he  surveyed  that  high  station  for  which  he  had 


THE    GLORY    OF    MAN.  89 

toiled  so  anxiously  and  long,  than  he  finds  it  a  weariness  and 
vexation  ;  because  the  responsibilities  and  cares  which  are  its 
inevitable  appendages,  diminish  the  glory  and  dispel  the 
charm  which  spell-bound  his  spirit  for  years ;  for,  all  that 
earth  can  give  is  doomed  to  bear  thorns. 

Far  safer  is  it,  and  infinitely  wiser  is  he,  who  goes  in 
thought  to  the  end  of  life's  race  and  looks  back  to  its  begin- 
ning ;  examines  the  history  of  others,  and  studies  the  character 
and  value  of  things  by  the  testimony  of  those  whose  experience 
enabled  them  to  form  a  proper  estimate  of  earthly  things,  and 
to  pronounce  a  just  verdict  upon  them.  For,  although  the 
,  sepulchre  seems  gloomy  and  silent,  yet  does  it  shed  light 
upon  things  otherwise  dark,  because  all  its  utterances  are  wise 
and  truthful.  Let  us  then  stand  together  in  the  presence  of 
this  calm  and  solemn  monitor,  and  listen  to  his  voice  as  he 
speaks  of  the  transient  nature  of  all  things.  As  a  messenger 
of  God,  he  announces  far  more  solemnly  and  impressively 
than  any  other  preacher,  that  "All  flesh  is  grass,  and  the 
glory  of  man  as  the  flower  of  the  grass.  The  grass  withereth, 
the  flower  fadeth  because  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  bloweth 
upon  it." 

And,  as  we  have  already  heard  his  lesson  concerning  the 
end  of  all  the  living,  let  us  now  hear  him  on  the  glory  of 
man.  Beautiful  and  fragrant  is  the  flower,  but  it  falleth  to 
the  earth  and  withereth ;  and  so  short-lived  and  perishable  a 
thing  is  often  the  glory  of  man.  But  what  is  the  glory  of 
man  ?  Doubtless,  that  upon  which  he  sets  the  highest  value, 
8* 


90  THE    GLORY    OF    MAN. 

and  which  constitutes  his  felicity.  That  to  which  all  his 
thoughts  tend,  that  for  which  his  heart  pulsates,  and  around 
Avhich  his  holiest  affections  cluster.  Whatever  that  may  be, 
it  constitutes  Ms  glory.  He  glories  in  its  pursuit,  and  rejoices 
in  its  possession  ;  but  it  is  obvious  that,  in  a  world  made  up 
of  beings  so  various  in  their  temperaments,  so  different  in 
their  pursuits,  so  unlike  in  their  circumstances,  and  so  diverse 
in  their  tastes,  it  is  not  the  same  thing  with  all.  But 
whatever  this  glory  of  man  may  be,  it  is  the  paradise  which 
he  has  formed  and  beautified  with  fountains  and  brooks,  and 
flowers  and  music  —  all  for  himself.  There  he  lives 
and  loves  ;  there  he  offers  his  orisons  and  vespers  ;  and  it  is  to 
him  what  the  light  is  to  the  sun,  or  beauty  to  the  landscape — 
his  glory.  It  varies,  however,  with  constitutional  organiza- 
tion, and  is  influenced  and  modified  by  the  position  and 
calling  of  the  individual. 

There  are  those  who  may  be  properly  styled  domestic  in 
their  feelings,  habits,  and  enjoyments.  Their  pleasures 
are  chiefly  found  within  the  little  home  circle,  and,  therefore, 
their  exertions  are  mostly  directed  to  such  additions  and 
such  improvements,  in  all  that  lies  within  that  sphere,  as  will 
increase  their  delight.  Fondly  do  parents  cherish  that 
o-roup  of  sprightly  children  which  daily  encircle  them.  They 
leave  ro  means  untried,  and  neglect  no  opportunities  to 
promote  the  intellectual  and  social  culture  of  iheir  ofTspring. 
And  no  stranger  knows  the  emotions  of  pleasure  with  which 
parents  contemplate    their  expanding  forms    and    unfolding 


THE    GLORY   OF    MAX.  91 

minds.  And  after  they  have  made  the  necessary  attain- 
ments in  ust'tul  and  ornamental  knowledge  to  fit  them  for 
the  social  circle,  they  are  conscious  of  a  lofty  pride  when 
they  behold  their  children  stepping  forth  into  society,  and 
by  their  many  obvious  accomplishments,  attracting  the 
admiring  eyes  of  the  multitude.  They  glory  in  them  as  so 
many  new  attractions  to  that  family,  honorably  known  and 
respected  for  generations.  And  there  are  perhaps  few  things 
of  a  temporal  character  in  which  man  may  more  rationally 
glory  than  in  a  well-regulated  family.  For,  as  an  institution, 
it  is  certainly  designed  and  eminently  fitted  to  promote  our 
happiness ;  and,  under  judicious  management,  it  may  be 
productive  of  untold  blessings  to  all  its  members.  There, 
hearts  beat  in  unison  and  spirits  intimately  blend.  There, 
there  is  a  transfusion  of  sympathy  and  love  from  one  to  the 
other. 

"  There  blend  the  ties  that  strengthen 
Onr  hearts  in  hours  of  grief, 
The  silver  links  that  lengthen 
Joy's  visits  when  most  brief." 

It  is  the  best  part  that  is  left  us  of  Eden  —  it  is  a  type  of 
heaven  ;  and  we  do  not  wonder  that  the  heart  should  exult 
amid  the  scenes  and  enjoyments  of  that  home  which  is 
unblighted,  where  none  has  drooped,  where  no  shadow  has 
yet  fallen,  no  note  of  sorrow  has  yet  been  uttered,  but  where 
all  is  bright  and  vocal  with  merry  voices.  But  how  suddenly 
are    such    scenes   changed!     Over  that   circle  of  fond  and 


92  THE    GLOUY    OF    MAN. 

loving  hearts  there  poises  the  dark  angel,  and  shakes  from 
his  plumes  the  elements  of  disease,  and  they  fall  as  the 
mildew  upon  the  blossom.  The  fairest  and  strongest  is 
bowed  under  sickness,  and  in  a  few  days  droops  and  dies. 
And  another,  and  another,  until  there  is  nothing  left  but  a 
few  broken  hearts,  weeping  over  the  memories  of  other  days  ; 
the  sad  memorials  of  the  truth  that  the  glory  of  man  is  as 
the  flower  of  the  grass. 

And  0  !  what  solemn  lessons  does  the  sepulchre  utter  of 
some  such  family  scenes.  Perhaps  it  tells  us  of  the  beautiful 
daughter,  or  the  noble  son,  whose  fond  but  mistaken  parents 
displayed  more  taste  in  the  decorations  of  the  casket,  than 
care  in  burnishing  the  priceless  jewel  which  it  contained ; 
and  who  were  determined  that  their  child  should  dazzle  in 
society,  but  labored  not  to  make  it  shine  in  heaven.  And 
now  that  the  flower  has  dropped  from  the  parent  stem,  the 
aroma  of  a  virtuous  and  holy  life  in  the  lost  one,  which  is  the 
only  balm  that  heals  the  wounded  spirit,  does  not  soothe  their 
bereaved  hearts.  For,  not  only  has  their  glory  faded,  but  no 
hope  cheers  them,  that  the  spirit  of  that  fair  form  which  they 
laid  in  the  tomb  has  risen  to  the  companionship  of  the  holy 
around  the  throne  of  God. 

There  are  others  who  glory  in  pleasure ;  that  say  to  their 
hearts,  "  Go  to,  now,  I  will  prove  thee  with  mirth ;"  and  to 
scenes  of  gaiety  and  mirth  they  hasten.  The  votaries  of 
pleasure  and  of  fashion,  they  will  gather  what  sweets  may  be 
thouo-ht  to  exist  in  a  life  of  frivolity.  They  are  decked  out 
in  costly  apparel.     The  world  is  laid  under  tribute,  and  the 


THE    GLORY    OF    MAN.  93 

toil  of  many  nations  is  pressed  into  the  business  of  attiring 
such  for  the  drawing-room,  the  theatre,  or  the  levee.  And 
they  have  a  butterfly's  glory  while  they  flutter  and  dazzle  in 
(he  blaze  of  jewels.  But  alas!  how  often  do  the  frequenters 
of  those  scenes,  and  the  lovers  of  these  enjoyments  find,  that 
such  a  life  is  destitute  of  solid  peace,  and  at  best  nothing 
but  an  empty  show  ;  for,  underneath  those  gems  that  sparkle. 
on  the  snowy  brow  there  live  dark,  corroding  thoughts  ;  and 
beneath  that  richly-ornamented  satin  there  may  lie  a  broken 
heart ;  and,  while  that  outward  structure  of  clay  is  beautified 
to  such  a  degree  that  it  might  be  mistaken  for  an  angel's 
abode,  the  inhabitant  may  scorn  and  loathe  these  vile 
trappings  of  earth  as  unbefitting  its  nature  and  destiny.  Had 
we  the  power  of  drawing  a  truthful  testimony  from  one  and 
all  of  the  multitudes  of  those  who  glory  in  such  scenes,  they 
would  with  one  accord  corroborate  the  declarations  of 
Solomon  concerning  a  life  of  pleasure,  and  say,  "  that  it  is 
vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit."  "  We  might  ask  the  brilliant 
courtier,  and  Lord  Chesterfield  v.-ould  tell  us,  I  have  enjoyed 
all  the  pleasures  of  the  world,  and  I  do  not  regret  their  loss. 
I  have  been  behind  the  scenes ;  I  have  seen  all  the  coarse 
pulleys  and  dirty  ropes  which  move  the  gaudy  machines ; 
and  I  have  seen  and  smelt  the  tallow  candies  which  illumi- 
nate the  whole  decorations  to  the  astonishment  of  an  ignorant 
audience."  "We  might  ask  the  world's  poet,  and  we 
Vv'ould  be  answered  by  an  imprecation,  by  that  splendid 
genius  who," 


94  THE    GLORY    OF    MAN. 

"  Drank  evei-y  cup  of  joy,  heard  every  trump 
Of  fame ;  drauk  early,  deeply  drank,  drank  draughts, 
That  common  millions  might  have  quenched,  then  died 
Of  thirst,  because  there  was  no  more  to  drink." 

But,  though  we  should  have  the  testimony  of  all  who  ever 
gloried  in  pleasure  as  to  its  worthless  and  fading  character, 
none  could  so  well  instruct  us  as  the  sepulchre.  All  that 
glitter  is  here  extinguished  ;  and  all  the  pride  and  pomp  of 
earth  go  down  into  its  darkness.  It  has  received  the  sport- 
ing youth  and  the  thoughtless  m.aiden ;  the  wit  and  the 
buffoon  ;  the  lordly  worldhng  and  the  haughty  matron  ;  and 
the  duration  of  their  glory  stretched  through  a  few  vexatious 
years,  and  then  sank  into  a  gloom  which  the  ages  of  eternity 
will  not  break. 

There  are  those,  also,  who  glory  in  wealth.  Many  use 
this  world  so  as  to  abuse  it.  They  know  not  the  only  true 
value  of  wealth;  and  are  ignorant  of  the  objects  God  designed 
to  be  promoted,  and  the  ends  to  be  accomplished,  by 
its  bestowal.  Instead  of  appropriating  it  in  a  manner  so  as 
to  produce  lasting  excellence,  many  rejoice  in  its  glitter,  and 
call  that  its  glory.  As  everything  is  beautiful  in  its  time  and 
in  its  place,  so  everything  has  an  excellence  peculiar  to  itself. 
There  is  a  glory  in  the  sun  which  rolls  in  the  firmament 
above,  and  there  is  a  glory  in  wealth.  But  as  yonder  sun 
would  not  glow  to  the  eyes  of  admiring  millions,  nor  wreathe 
nature  in  smiles,  and  cover  the  earth  with  golden  harvests, 
did  he  retain  his  rays  within  his  bosom,  thus  wealth  has  no 
glory  so  long  as  it  lies  in  iron  coffers,  or  is  held  under  the 
hard  pressure  of  the  miser's  grasp,  or  is  used  to  feed  the 


THE    GLORY    OF    MAN.  95 

pride  and  passions  of  man.  It  must  go  out  on  its  ordained 
mission,  and  wake  a  world  of  misery  into  life  and  joy ;  breathing 
hope  into  the  desponding,  clothing  the  naked,  feeding  the 
hungry,  and  beautifying  sin-stricken  humanity  with  its  benefac- 
tions— then  is  wealth  glorious.  The  hand  of  affluence  may  sow 
fields  which  will  require  many  angels  to  gather,  when  Christ 
comes  on  his  great  white  throne  to  reap  the  earth.  The 
rich  have  great  responsibilities, 'which  are  inherited  with  their 
wealth,  and  many  feel  them.  It  is  a  fearful  trust  to  which 
they  are  called ;  for,  as  stewards  of  the  great  Jehovah,  their 
accounts  will  be  examined  at  the  bar  of  the  final  day,  and 
their  disbursements  approbated  or  condemned.  He  who 
fortunately  or  unfortunately  commands  millions,  should  have 
more  than  human  wisdom  to  direct  him  in  their  management 
and  use,  that  they  may  yield  him  a  harvest  of  glory.  When 
God  gives  such  mental  capacities  to  an  individual,  that  his 
intellectual  furniture  fits  him  to  legislate,  or  to  command  in 
the  field  —  to  rule  on  a  throne,  or  to  send  forth  from 
the  retirement  of  the  study  offsprings  of  his  mind  which 
mould  the  character  of  thousands,  sending  out  an  influence 
which  has  powder  to  mar  with  stains  of  vice,  or  jewel  with 
virtues  the  character  of  immortal  beings  —  all  acknowledge 
that  he  has  a  fearful  mission,  which  is  destined  to  issue 
in  a  glorious  or  terrible  future.  To  prostitute  such  talents 
to  the  cause  of  vice,  is  to  use  immortal  treasures  to 
buy  immortal  woes  ;  for  he  who  flings  with  a  vile  hand  the 
coin  imaged  with  the  King  of  Kings  into  the  dust,  must 
agonize  under  purchased  wrath.     But  is  not  wealth  a  gift  of 


96  THE    GLORY    OF    MAN. 

God  under  another  form?  Do  we  not  rightly  baptize  it 
talent  ?  Is  it  not  thus  called  by  Him  who  has  bestowed  it  ? 
Aye,  a  talent  which  is  to  be  used  to  promote  the  sovereign's 
honor,  and  thus  insure  the  subject's  glory. 

If,  then,  we  would  have  the  true  glory  of  wealth,  we 
should  be  God's  almoners  —  his  stewards  and  agents,  wisely 
managing  and  funding  our  treasures,  tliat,  in  common  with 
the  other  divinely-ordained  instrumentalities,  they  may  con- 
tribute to  the  elevation  of  mankind,  to  the  diffusion  of  light, 
and  the  covering  of  the  earth  with  the  knowledge  of  salva- 
tion. We  would  not  condemn  any  lawful  use  of  wealth. 
We  believe  it  designed  to  minister  to  the  comfort  of  its 
possessor  and  of  his  family ;  and  if  that  requires  it,  or 
if  it  will  promote  their  ha])piness  and  not  inflict  an  injury,  he 
may  employ  it  to  construct  elegant  mansions,  and  ornament 
them  in  princely  style.  He  may  have  his  spacious  gardens 
and  parks,  and  probably  many  other  things  which  may  be 
regarded  as  needful  appendages  of  the  wealthy  and  great ; 
for  all  these  expenditures  will  promote  industry,  and  give 
food  and  raiment  to  the  worthy  laborer.  But  if  he  would  have 
large  and  durable  comfort,  he  must  suffer  the  streams  of 
his  affluence  to  roll  beyond  the  domestic  circle,  beyond 
his  gardens  and  his  parks,  and  carry  their  blessings  over 
the  wide  fields  of  our  afflicted  race ;  —  that  by  those 
streams  there  may  grow  the  tree  of  knowledge,  of  whose 
fruit  the  poor  may  eat — and  the  tree  of  life,  which 
yields  immortal  nourishment,  and  whose  leaves  are  for  the 
healing  of  the  nations.     All  this  the  affluent  can  do,  by  en- 


THE    GLORY    OF    MAN.  97 

flowing  institutions  of  learning,  and  by  enriching  with  their 
benefactions  associations  instituted  for  the  spread  of  the 
Gospel.  The  cause  of  Missions,  Domestic  and  Foreign  — 
the  cause  of  Education  —  the  Bible  —  the  Tract,  and  many 
other  Christian  Unions,  are  mediums  through  which  he  can 
diffuse  his  benefactions ;  and  then  will  the  true  glory  of 
wealth  become  visible,  when  it  makes  the  earth  radiant  with 
the  blessings  and  hopes  of  Christianity.  The  children  of  this 
world  are  pronounced  wise  because  they  keep  their  capital 
working,  and  multiplying  as  it  works.  And  it  is  the  same 
principle,  only  extended  a  little  farther  in  its  bearings,  which 
controls  the  action  of  the  wealthy  Christian.  0 !  yes, 
immortal  ages  will  bear  witness  that  this  is  the  true  glory  of 
wealth — when  it  is  made  to  beautify  eternal  mansions,  and  to 
augment  the  number  of  their  occupants.  To  swell  the 
number  of  those  who  walk  through  the  Paradise  of  God,  who 
rejoice  along  the  river  of  life,  and  wake  to  endless  praise  the 
harps  of  gold — this  is  a  work  of  true  glory.  Let  it  then  be 
our  glory,  if  blessed  with  wealth,  to  wake  millions  of  heathen 
voices  in  the  eternal  song.  Would  you  not,  if  you  could,  in 
the  day  of  judgment,  place  a  harp  in  the  hand  of  that 
degraded  heathen  and  a  crown  of  life  upon  his  head,  and 
send  him  white-robed  into  the  golden  city  to  join  in  the  song 
of  Moses  and  the  Lamb  ?  And  would  you  not  then,  amid 
the  throes  of  a  dissolving  universe,  when  the  shrieks  of  the 
lost  and  the  crash  of  worlds  shall  send  tremors  through  all 
the  framework  of  your  spiiit,  and  you  shall  see  eternity  flash- 
ing around  you  in  all  its  tremendous  realities,  and  revealing 
9 


98  THE   GLORY   OF   MAN. 

the  worth  of  the  soul  and  tlie  av.ful  price  of  its  redemption, 
^\•Ollld  you  not  then  experience  more  pleasure  in  sending 
one  immortal  soul  into  eternal  life,  than  you  would  in  the 
enjoyment  of  unbounded  wealth  for  ten  thousand  years? 
And  yet,  that  which  you  cannot  do  then  you  may  do  now. 
For,  behold  the  cry  of  the  perishing  comes  from  the  habita- 
tions of  cruelty,  and  vibrates  upon  our  ears ;  and  their 
eternal  destiny  hangs  upon  thy  will,  0  !  affluent  man. 

But  let  us  once  more  interrogate  the  sepulchre  where  we 
stand  in  relation  to  the  false  and  the  true  glory  of  wealth. 
It  tells  us,  that  while  it  swallows  up  the  empty  glitter  of  the 
worldling's  grandeur,  it  claims  not,  it  destroys  not,  the 
abiding  glory  of  wealth  ;  for  that  belongs  to  heaven,  and  is 
immortal.  It  will  live  and  shine  forever  in  the  objects  whom 
it  lifted  out  of  the  depths  of  sin,  and  lighted  to  the  mansions 
on  high.  But  behold  the  tomb  where  sleeps  the  man, 
the  philosophy  of  whose  life  was  that  of  Epicurus,  and  see 
how  his  glory  is  turned  into  shame.  The  owner  of  many 
broad  acres  has  but  an  equal  space  with  his  servant  whereon 
to  repose  his  death-stricken  limbs ;  and  the  former  occupant 
of  a  princely  mansion  is  now  the  inmate  of  the  narrow  grave. 
And  although  his  body  reposes  in  the  dust,  his  soul  finds 
not  its  home  in  heaven.  But  he  who  lived  according  to  the 
rules  of  Christ  has  a  green  memory  on  earth,  while  his  spirit 
rejoices  in  the  palace  of  God. 

"  A  man,"  says  Jeremy  Taylor,  "  may  read  a  sermon,  the 
best  and  most  pathetic  ever  man  preached,  if  he  shall  but 
enter  the  sepulchres  of  kings.     In  the  same  Escurial  where 


THE    GLORY    OF    MAN.  99 

the  Spanish  princes  live  in  greatness  and  power,  and  decref 
war  or  peace,  they  have  wisely  placed  a  cemetery,  where 
their  ashes  and  their  glory  shall  sleep  till  time  shall  be 
no  more  ;  and  where  our  kings  have  been  crowned  their 
ancestors  lie  interred  —  and  they  must  walk  over  their  grand- 
sires'  heads  to  take  the  crown.  There  is  an  acre  sown  with 
royal  seed,  the  copy  of  the  greatest  change  from  rich  to  naked, 
from  ceiled  roofs  to  arched  coffins,  from  living  like  gods  to 
die  like  men.  There  is  enough  to  cool  the  flames  of  lust,  to 
abate  the  heights  of  pride,  to  appease  the  itch  of  covetous 
desires,  to  sully  and  dash  out  the  dissembling  colors  of 
a  lustful,  artificial,  and  imaginary  beauty.  There  the  warlike 
and  peaceful,  the  fortunate  and  the  miserable,  the  beloved 
and  the  despised  princes  mingle  their  dust,  and  pay  down 
their  symbol  of  mortality,  and  tell  all  the  world  that  when  we 
die  our  ashes  shall  be  equal  to  kings',  and  our  accounts 
easier,  and  our  pains  for  our  crowns  shall  be  less." 

Having  considered  human  glory  under  three  different 
forms — that  of  the  family,  of  pleasure,  and  of  wealth  —  it 
remains  yet  for  us  to  ask  of  the  sepulchre  as  to  the  glory  of  fame. 
It  is  true  that  the  glory  of  man  appears  under  many  other  forms ; 
for,  as  the  desire  is  innate  and  universal,  so  will  it  evolve  itself 
under  a  countless  variety  of  aspects.  Man  is  born  for  glory, 
and  if  he  finds  not  that  which  is  real  and  substantial  he 
grasps  its  shadow.  For,  as  the  visible  creations  of  Jehovah 
are  only  manifestations  or  embodiments  of-4hose  beauti- 
ful and  grand  conceptions  which  reposed  in  the  Divine  mind 
from   all   eternity,  until   externalized   in   the  works  of  His 


100  THE    GLORY    OF    MAN. 

power,  so,  in  the  human  mind,  those  objects  in  which  man 
glories  lie  in  undeveloped  desires,  until  outwardly  manifested 
in  the  object  of  his  choice.  The  conception  of  that  which  he 
prefers  lies  deep  within  his  soul,  whether  it  is  low  or  exalted, 
and,  according  as  its  character  may  be,  so  will  be  the  form 
which  his  glory  assumes.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to  enume- 
rate any  others,  since  we  have  a  fair  exhibition  of  it  under 
these  several  heads ;  indeed,  its  character  and  perishable- 
ness  may  be  seen  wherever  and  in  whatever  outward 
manifestations  it  may  produce  itself.  But  let  us  consider  it 
for  a  moment  under  the  last-mentioned  form.  That  all  men 
desire  fame  is  as  evident  as  the  fact  that  all  men  breathe.  It 
is  an  essential  property  in  human  nature ;  and  the  mind 
destitute  of  it  would  lack  one  of  its  prime  elements,  and  be 
like  the  eagle  without  his  wings,  or  the  lion  without  his 
strength.  But  for  it,  none  would  rise  to  respectable  stand- 
ing, much  less  soar  to  that  elevation  where  the  range  of 
intellectual  vision  is  widest,  and  the  eye  of  science  darts  its 
rapid  glances  over  the  immense  fields  of  knowledge.  Its 
early  motions  are  witnessed  in  the  little  child,  whose  first 
essays  at  play  or  study  are  accompanied  with  a  quick  glance 
at  the  mother  for  a  smile  of  approbation.  And  from  the 
humble  position  of  the  little  prattler  by  ray  knee,  up  to  the 
loftiest  pinnacle  of  fame  where  man  has  inscribed  his  name, 
there  beats  not  a  heart  between  these  two  extremes  that  longs 
not  for  approbation,  and  that  loves  not  the  music  of  human 
applause.  Persons  covet  admiration,  whether  it  is  accorded 
for  the  setting  out  of  a  good  dinner,  or  doing  a  useful  job  of 


THE    GLORY    OF    MAN.  101 

work,  or  successfully  marshalling  and  leading  to  victory  the 
steel-bristling  army,  or  the  brilliant  achievements  in  legislation 
and  diplomacy.     All  love  glory  ia  this   form,  and  loving, 
pursue  it.     But  although  there  is  this  universality  of  desire 
for  the  esteem  of  others,  and  this  unquenchable  thirst  for 
glory,  we  should  not  forget  that  there  is  a  dilTerence  in  kind  ; 
we   should    always   recognize   the    distinction   between  the 
human  and  the  spiritual.     Human  glory  will  perish  because 
it  is  human;  the  spiritual  will  endure  because  it  is  divine. 
And  while  the  desire  is  indestructible,  because  a  part  of  the 
mind,  the  glory  which  man  reaps  will  be  lasting  or  evanes- 
cent as  the  character  of  the  object  from  which  it  is  derived 
is  frail  or  immutable.     We  are  invited  to  glory  in  purity,  in 
virtue,  and  in  God.     "  Let  not  the  wise  man  glory  in  his 
wisdom,  nor  the  rich  in  his  riches,  but  let  him  that  glorieth, 
glory  in  the  Lord!"     To  glory  in  that  which  is  durable  and 
good  is  everywhere  enjoined  in  the  gospel,  and  represented 
as    an    object  of  legitimate    pursuit.     The  joys   of  eternal 
salvation  are  offered  to  those  who  by  "  persevering  in  well- 
doing seek  for  honor,  glory,  and  immortality."     But  this  is 
different  from  that  empty  fame  which  originates  with  man 
and  terminates  in  the  tomb.     The  military  hero  whose  chief 
end  is  to  exalt  himself  and  immortalize  his  name,  is  graspino- 
at  a  shadow.     He  may  bear  himself  proudly  through  scenes 
of  carnage,  and  the  groans  of  the  wounded   and   dying  may 
be  the  musical  harbingers  of  those  notes  of  applause  ^^hich 
will  intoxicate  his  brain  on  his  return  from  the    successful 
9* 


102  THE   GLORY    OF    MAI^. 

campaign.  He  may  succeed  in  getting  a  place  on  the 
historic  page,  and  in  filling  the  world  with  his  fame,  and  pass 
from  height  to  height  \intil  he  has  risen  to  the  summit  of 
imperial  rule  ;  but  if  his  aims  have  no  higher  origin  or 
tendency  than  self,  he  will,  meteor-like,  dazzle  and  blaze  for 
a  moment  and  then  leave  the  world  in  thicker  gloom. 
Those  sounds  of  applause  may  exhilarate  his  spirits  while 
riding  in  triumph  on  a  wave  of  fortune,  but  when  washed 
by  an  adverse  billow  on  some  lonely  St.  Helena,  to  die  a 
broken-hearted  prisoner,  his  glory,  like  a  beautiful  bubble, 
bursts  and  vanishes  into  thin  air,  and  on  his  tomb  it  is  written, 
"  Thus  passeth  the  glory  of  the  world."  And  0  !  how  does 
the  well-earned  fame  of  the  great  diminish  in  real  worth  when 
the  shadows  of  the  sepulchre  fall  around  them !  If  the  man 
of  genius,  of  letters,  or  philosophy,  has  sought  glory  from 
men  more  than  from  God,  what  avails  it  that  he  is  loaded 
with  chaplets  and  wreathed  with  laurels,  bound  upon  his  brow 
by  manly  hands,  and  decorated  with  mementoes  of  woman's 
love!  how  empty  and  worthless  do  all  appear  as  he  comes 
to  the  open  grave !  Can  these  earthly  honors  soothe  him  in 
the  dying  strife?  Can  the  recollection  of  days  spent  amid 
luxurious  scenes,  and  in  brilliant  circles,  still  one  throb  of 
anffuish  ?  Can  all  the  distinctions  of  a  successful  career 
shed  one  gleam  of  light  into  the  dark  valley  ?  Can  golden 
honors  unbar  the  gates  of  paradise,  that  his  race  may  be  yet 
more  brilliant  and  glorious?  Ah!  no.  If  he  has  only  sought 
the  praise  of  man,  and  undervalued  the  praise  of  God,  all 


THE   GLORY   OF   MAN.  103 

that  he  hath  is  worthless,  and  his  glory,  which  the  thoughtless 
envied,  is  like  the  autumnal  flower,  which  blooms  a  few  hours 
and  then  falls  to  the  earth,  and  its  leaves  no  one  gathers. 
And  such  is  the  glory  which  crowns  the  lives  of  all  the 
illustrious,  that  in  whatever  sphere  they  may  move,  or  whatever 
they  may  achieve  for  their  country's  honor,  or  the  church's 
interest ;  all  that  is  earthly  will  perish,  and  only  that  which 
links  itself  with  God  will  abide,  bright  and  beautiful,  forever. 
Such  then  is  the  glory  of  man — frail,  short-lived,  and  transient 
— vanishing  like  the  beauties  of  the  rainbow — evanescent  as 
the  gorgeous  glow  of  the  evening  cloud  —  passing  away  like 
s\\:eet  melodies  on  the  dying  breeze. 

But  there  is  true  and  lasting  glory  in  all  the  forms  which 
we  have  considered,  provided  our  aims  and  purposes  in  all 
the  relations  of  life  contemplate  the  honor  of  God  and  the 
good  of  man.  Let  us  then  glory  in  God,  and,  with  Paul,  in 
the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  For  if  we  make  that  the 
centre  of  our  affections,  and  the  shrine  whither  we  bring  and 
lay  all  our  crowns  of  joy,  then  those  distinctions  and  honors 
which  we  may  receive  from  this  world  will  be  baptized  by 
the  blood  of  the  cross  with  a  fadeless  immortality,  seeing  that 
all  are  made  tributary  to  the  divine  glory.  Thus  we  may  have 
a  legitimate  glory  in  usefulness  and  goodness  ;  and,  because  it 
springs  from  God,  it  claims  a  lifetime  with  the  Eternal. 
And  should  these  pages  fall  under  the  eye  of  one  whose  sad 
experience  has  taught  him  the  vanity  of  that  glory  which 
comes   not   from  God  —  who  has  been  drawn  far  into  the 


104  THE    GLORY    OF    MAN. 

paths  of  corruption,  and  has  sullied  his  immortal  spirit  to 
such  a  degree  that  the  dark  shadows  of  despair  chill  every 
feeble  purpose  to  rise  to  an  elevation  of  purity  and  hope,  so 
that  in  view  of  his  frequent  failures  he  yields  to  the 
current  of  passion  as  the  fatigued  mariner  gives  way  to  the 
opposing  tide  that  bears  him  to  the  fearful  gulf —  let  him  not 
yield  to  despondency. 

"  Cast  not  the  clouded  gem  away, 
Quench  not  the  dim  but  living  ray ; — 
My  brother  man,  beware  ! 
AVith  that  deep  voice  which  from  the  skies, 
Forbade  the  Patriarch's  sacrifice, 
God's  angel  cries  forbear." 

Rise  again  and  link  your  next  purpose  of  good  with  the 
hand  that  was  pierced  on  Calvary,  and  it  will  raise  you  to 
His  fellowship  and  glory.  And  if  animated  by  His  spirit, 
whose  glory  was  in  going  about  and  doing  good,  and  our 
hearts  are  pervaded  by  his  love,  then  will  the  outflows  of  our 
being  be  like  streams  in  a  desert  land,  waking  sweet  melo- 
dies where'er  they  flow.  For  the  love  of  Christ  will 
constrain  us  to  live  a  life  of  charity ;  and  true  godliness,  and 
practical  benevolence  form  the  highest  glory  of  man. 

"  See  the  lone  wand'rer  'mid  the  wastes  of  death 
Rejoicing,  hails  the  Alpine  blossom's  breath, 
As  shuddering  at  the  glacier's  awful  power, 
He  seeks  the  beauty  of  the  meek-eyed  flower. 
And  there  reposes  in  a  steadfast  trust. 
That  on  the  pkant  no  avalanche  storm  will  burst. 
What  kindles  thus  his  faith  and  calms  his  fears? 
The  seal  of  love  and  hope  the  blossom  bears ; 


THE    GLORY    OF    MAN.  105 

Tho'  round  liira  heave  a  Jark  and  frozen  flood, 

One  thought  is  peace  —  is  safety,  "God  is  good;" 

Nor  could  the  wand'rer  idly  turn  away ; 

His  lip  might  move  not,  but  his  heart  would  pray  ; 

And  he  would  gather  in  that  musing  hour, 

Amid  those  trophies  of  Jehovah's  power. 

New  strength  of  soul,  a  grander  scope  of  thought: 

His  mind  to  nobler  purpose  would  be  wrought, 

And  feel  and  own,  in  this  calm,  solemn  mood, 

That  'tis  man's  highest  ghry  to  he  good." 


CHAPTER  SIXTH. 


IN  THE  SEPULCHRE  THE  CONFLICTS  OF  LIFE  END. 


Tbither  the  pooi',  the  pris'ner,  and  the  mourner, 
Fly  for  relief,  and  lay  tbeii*  burdens  down." 

"Weep  not  for  him  who  dieth, 
For  he  sleeps  and  is  at  rest  ; 
And  the  couch  on  Tfhich  he  lieth, 
Is  the  green  earth's  quiet  breast." 


Within  the  compass  of  human  life  there  are  crowded 
immense  interests.  Upon  this  theatre  are  results  wrought 
out,  which  will  be  contemplated  with  complacency  or 
remorse  through  a  long  eternity.  Here  each  one  builds  for 
himself  a  character  which  will  give  a  passport  to  a  miserable 
or  glorious  future  ;  fashioning  a  name  that  will  be  fragrant 
or  offensive  in  heaven  and  on  earth,  while  it  will  constitute 
a  tower  of  strength  in  which  those  may  shelter  who  are 
impressible  by  his  example,  or  a  pile  of  ruins  which  will 
bury  golden  immortal  hopes  for  all  who  are  corrupted  by  his 
influence.  And  limited  as  the  sphere  may  seem  which  our 
vision  spans,  there  are  forces  acting  within  that  circle  whose 
vibrations  thrill  far  into  eternity.  Here  all  act — all  are  in 
motion ;   some   in   the   pursuit   of  substantial  good,  others 

(106) 


IN   THE    SEPULCHRE,    ETC.  107 

chasing  phantoms.  We  are  in  the  midst  of  a  scene  of 
incessant  activity.  There  can  be  no  quiet,  no  peace,  no  rest 
here,  for  it  is  on  the  great  arena  of  hfe  that  the  earthly  and 
the  spiritual,  the  human  and  divine,  are  waging  their  hard 
conflicts.  Activity  is  a  law  which  controls  all  things,  or 
rather  the  manifest  result  of  those  hidden  forces  which  reside 
in  all  created  objects.  And  wisely  has  it  been  ordained  that 
it  should  be  so.  For  it  is  the  ceaseless  roll  of  the  ocean 
that  makes  it  a  fountain  of  health,  and  the  vibration  of  the 
atmosphere  which  fits  it  to  sustain  life  and  invigorate  the 
frame.  Our  forests  are  robed  in  their  beautiful  dress ;  our 
hills  and  valleys  smile;  our  fields  wave  with  golden  harvests; 
and  the  world  is  full  of  life  and  joy,  because  the  heavens  and 
the  earth  —  yea,  all  things  are  in  motion. 

And  while  much  of  the  activity  in  human  society  aims  not 
at  the  accomplishment  of  good,  but  is  in  direct  conflict  with 
the  laws  of  man's  being  and  the  rule  of  heaven,  yet  is  it 
well  that  God  has  made  the  mind  of  man  restless,  and 
accorded  to  it  liberty  of  choice.  Even  if  there  were  a  dis- 
position for  inactivity,  there  is  no  place  for  indolence  nor 
repose  between  the  cradle  and  the  grave.  For  each  day 
brings  its  cares  and  its  toils.  Life  is  a  river,  which  is  only 
beautiful  and  refreshing  while  it  flows.  It  is  a  voyage  over 
heaving  billows,  Avhich  forbids  us  to  pause  —  a  warfare 
which  will  not  allow  us  to  ungird  our  armor  until  the  final 
victory  is  achieved.  But  here,  at  the  sepulchre,  all  our  toils 
and  conflicts  end.  Here  the  river  has  found  the  ocean  — 
the  racer  has  reached  the  goal  —  the  mariner  has  gained  the 


108  IN    THE    SEPULCHRE 

haven  —  and  the  soldier  has  won  his  last  triumph.  All  toil 
ends  here.  And  0,  what  multitudes  are  doomed  through 
long  years  to  eke  out  a  scanty  subsistence.  For  while  a  few 
in  some  measure  escape  the  decree,  "  in  the  sweat  of  thy 
face  shalt  thou  eat  thy  bread,"  the  masses  are  conscious 
that  it  has  fallen  upon  them  with  painful  severity.  Behold 
the  numbers  who  toil  in  our  cities  from  early  dawn  till 
late  in  the  night :  if  the  compensation  was  such  as  to 
afford  them  the  needful  comforts  of  life,  the  labor  would  be 
cheerfully  performed,  for  then  it  would  bring  its  blessings. 
But  there  is  the  poor  widow  with  her  helpless  babes,  and  her 
heart  laboring  with  heavy  woes ;  she  feels  no  responsive 
throb  from  all  those  livinjr  hearts  that  beat  through  that  jireat 
city.  She  is  alone  with  her  helpless  ones.  Patiently  she 
plies  her  needle  until  her  fingers  bleed.  Often  is  she 
tempted  to  seek  a  little  rest,  for  the  night  is  far  advanced, 
and  nature  clamors  for  repose  ;  but  her  eye  falls  upon  that 
pallet  of  straw  where  sleep  her  children  with  only  a  few 
tatters  to  shield  their  tender  limbs  from  the  piercing  cold,  and 
the  thought  of  their  cries  for  bread  in  the  morning  goes  like 
an  iron  into  her  soul,  and  excites  her  to  another  effort.  She 
rallies  her  exhausted  strength  and  toils  on,  cheered  with  the 
hope  that  even  for  misery  and  poverty  there  will  one  day  be 
sweet  repose  in  the  grave.  Wearily  and  heavily  do  those 
nights  roll  on ;  and  through  all  her  days  she  is  cheered  by  no 
smile,  encouraged  by  no  sympathising  look;  for  rough  words 
and  a  haughty  bearing  accompany  the  small  pittance  doled 
out   bv  her  iron-hearted  oppressor  for  that   work  which  is 


THE    CONFLICTS    OF    LIFE    END.  109 

impregnate  with  the  strength  of  her  soul  and  the  blood  of 
her  heart,  and  baptized  with  the  widow's  and  the  orphan's 
tears.  And  with  unfailing  confidence  in  the  wisdom  and 
goodness  of  an  overruling  Providence,  she  continues  faithful 
to  her  charge,  until  He,  under  whose  eye  she  toiled,  and  to 
whose  throne  she  looked,  and  in  whose  promises  she  trusted, 
says  it  is  enough,  and  sends  his  angels  to  bring  that  care- 
worn spirit  from  that  humble  dwelling  to  the  palace  of  God. 
And  what  a  spectacle  would  oppress  the  mind  could  we 
penetrate  those  gloomy  mines,  where  thousands  are  born,  and 
live  and  die,  and  who  associate  nothing  bright  or  pleasant 
with  life,  for  they  know  it  only  in  its  toils  and  tears.  Look 
where  we  will  —  in  the  shop  or  the  counting-house,  on  the 
field  or  in  the  study  —  everywhere  are  arms  in  motion  and 
hearts  palpitating  under  hard  pressures.  All  these  shall  find 
repose  in  the  peaceful  tomb.  All  care  and  all  business  will 
end  there.  There  will  be  felt  no  more  fears  and  anxieties 
about  the  success  of  this  enterprise  or  that  speculation,  the 
safety  of  this  investment  or  that  outlay.  No  more  pressures 
to  cloud  the  mind  and  weigh  dow^n  the  spirits,  and  to  annoy 
and  make  unhappy  a  whole  family.  In  the  tomb  there  are 
no  more  transactions  to  test  the  shrewdness  and  skill  of 
competitors  in  trade.  There  the  husbandman,  who  long  and 
faithfully  tilled  the  soil,  under  whose  cultivating  hand  the 
wilderness  was  displaced  by  fields  of  waving  grain,  whose 
industry  brought  nourishment  from  the  earth  for  hungry 
millions,  and  who  for  many  years  stood  by  the  storehouse  of 
Nature  and  dealt  out  bread  to  the  needy,  at  last  finds  a  quiet 
10 


110  IN    THE    SEPULCHRE 

retreat.  Often,  as  he  watclied  the  revolving  earth  when  it 
rolled  up  garnished  with  countless  beautiful  things  which  had 
risen  from  their  winter's  grave  and  filled  the  world  with 
fragrance,  he  had  pictured  to  his  mind  the  prospect  of  those 
who  go  down  into  the  tomb  with  the  assurances  of  hope  ;  and 
he  gladly  toiled  on  until  death  bid  him  rest  from  his  labors. 

And  there,  too,  sleeps  sweetly  the  man  of  honest  and  hard 
labor.  There  is  one  whom  I  often  saw  coming  forth  from 
his  cottage  in  the  early  blush  of  morning,  and  threading  his 
way  through  fields  and  woods  until  he  reached  the  scene  of 
his  daily  work.  And  manfully  did  he  bend  to  toil  under  a 
scorching  sun,  animated  with  thoughts  of  home  and  the 
prospect  of  the  evening  which  would  bring  him  to  his  neat 
and  quiet  abode,  where  happy  and  cheerful  hearts  were 
awaiting  his  return.  One  evening,  as  I  was  returning  from 
some  pastoral  visits,  I  observed  him  as  he  had  given  the  last 
stroke  of  the  axe,  and,  as  he  laid  it  aside,  it  was  with  a 
countenance  beaming  with  satisfaction  that  he  surveyed  the 
work  he  had  accomplished ;  with  a  grateful  heart  he 
lifted  up  his  thoughts  to  heaven,  thankful  to  the  great  Father 
for  the  health  and  strength  he  had  aflforded,  and  then,  with 
a  rapid  step  and  a  bounding  heart,  he  turned  his  face  home- 
ward. Rapidly  did  the  distance  between  him  and  his 
home  diminish.  Long  before  he  reached  his  cottage  I  saw 
a  group  of  sprightly  children  running  to  welcome  their 
beloved  father ;  for  to  children  days  seem  like  years:  all  at 
once  they  grasped  those  manly  hands  which  had  grown 
hard  with  toil,  and,  with  the  least  one  borne  on  his  arm,  and 


THE   CONFLICTS   OF   LIFE   END.         ^  111 

escorted  by  the  others,  he  entered  his  humble  dwelling;  and 
there,  under  the  caresses  of  those  little  ones  and  the  smiles 
of  a  gentle  wife,  he  had  a  happiness  which  is  but  seldom 
enjoyed  by  princes.  I  drew  near  to  that  family  and  was 
kindly  welcomed  to  the  poor  man's  cottage.  Our  conversa- 
tion soon  turned  upon  the  incidents  of  the  day  ;  he  spoke 
of  his  labor  and  his  condition  with  a  cheerful  spirit,  and  I 
discovered  that  all  shared  his  feelings.  It  was  pleasant  to  go 
there  and  learn  how  the  grace  of  God  can  sustain  and 
comfort,  and  what  a  glow  of  peace  and  contentment  it  sheds 
through  humble  life.  For  years  was  he  given  to  imbroken 
toil ;  but  the  blessing  of  God  was  upon  it,  and  the  labor 
of  his  hands  was  prospered  ;  his  children  were  like  trees 
growing  by  the  water-brooks  of  life,  whose  virtues  were  fresh 
and  visible  ;  and  many  pronounced  them  blessed.  I  knew 
him  long,  and  loved  him  well.  But  sickness  came,  and  like 
the  oak  whose  bosom  had  been  bared  to  many  a  storm,  and 
stood  firm  amid  the  shock  of  elements,  at  last  bowed  and 
gently  sank  upon  the  lap  of  earth.  I  was  called  to  his  bed- 
side, but  only  to  see  how  a  good  man  dies,  and  to  be 
strengthened  by  the  lessons  which  flowed  from  his  dying 
lips.  I  had  attended  others  through  the  struggles  of  the 
final  hour,  and  heard  at  other  bedsides  lamentations  and  fears 
uttered  for  the  wife  and  children,  but  from  him  I  heard  only 
words  of  consolation  and  trust;  and  sweetly  as  if  spoken  out 
of  heaven  did  his  dying  prayer  fall  upon  my  ears.  After  he 
had  pressed  an  affectionate  and  hopeful  farewell,  he  folded 
his   hands   and   lifted   his   eyes  to  heaven,  and   said,  "0 1 


112  IN   THE    SEPULCnRE 

my  merciful  and  faithful  God,  I  can  toil  no  more  for  my 
beloved  ones ;  but  '  Thou  art  the  Father  of  the  fatherless, 
and  husband  of  the  widow,'  into  Thy  hands  I  commit  them 
and  my  spirit  —  Lord  Jesus  receive  me  —  amen,"  and  he 
breathed  no  more. 

"  Sweet  is  the  scene  where  Cbristians  die. 

Where  holy  souls  retire  to  rest ; 
How  mildly  beams  the  closing  eye  ! 

How  gently  heaves  the  expiring  breast ! 
So  fades  a  summer  cloud  away, 

So  sinks  the  gale  when  storms  are  o'er ; 
So  gently  shuts  the  eye  of  day, 

So  dies  a  wave  along  the  shore." 

It  was  a  beautiful  morning  in  the  latter  end  of  May  that 
the  neighbors  gathered  around  that  neat  cottage,  as  by  a 
common  impulse  of  sympathy  for  the  bereaved  and  regard 
for  the  dead.  The  rich  and  the  poor,  the  young  and  the  old 
Avere  there  —  for  they  all  loved  him.  There  is  something 
beautiful  in  a  country  funeral,  where  all  classes  and  all  ranks 
meet  and  mingle  to  follow  their  neighbor  and  friend  to  the 
grave.  And  many  were  the  expressions  of  heartfelt  sympathy 
and  regret  as  they  looked  upon  his  face  for  the  last  time. 
And  as  God  had  given  him  a  calm  evening  for  his  peaceful 
death  so  had  he  ordered  a  beautiful  day  for  his  burial.  The 
one  seemed  emblematic  of  his  brilliant  end  ;  the  other  of  his 
blissful  eternity.  For  on  the  evening  I  repaired  to  attend 
him  in  his  last  moments,  as  I  was  approaching  his  house, 
a  dark  mountain  of  clouds  which  had  just  poured  their 
tribute  into  the  lap  of  the  green  earth,  suddenly  rose,  and 
suffered  the  sun  to  sink  behind  the  horizon  in  his  full-orbed 


THE    CONFLICTS    OF    LIFE    END.  113 

glory,  while  he  threw  a  gorgeous  glow  upon  the  storm-clouds 
which  had  a  while  obscured  his  brightness;  a  striking 
emblem,  thought  I,  as  I  came  away  from  that  house  of 
mourning,  of  the  scene  which  had  transpired  within.  Thus 
also  seemed  that  morning,  on  which  we  had  assembled  to 
follow  his  remains  to  the  tomb,  prophetic  of  the  glory  amid 
which  his  spirit  rejoiced ;  for  the  sun  shone  bright,  and  nature 
was  fresh  and  fragrant;  all  labor  was  suspended,  and  the 
people  neatly  attired  ;  not  the  sound  of  a  hammer  nor  a  note 
of  the  plough-boy  was  heard  ;  that  universal  quiet  so  soothing 
to  hearts  smitten  with  grief  reigned  over  the  landscape,  and 
was  only  broken  by  the  soft  notes  of  a  dove  in  a  large  willow 
which  shaded  the  cottage,  and  in  whose  spreading  boughs 
she  had  often  made  music  for  the  poor  cottager;  and  the 
occasional  sound  of  the  tolling  bell  which  announced  that  the 
hour  for  the  mournful  service  had  arrived.  His  employer,  a 
man  whose  generosity  to  the  poor  and  kindness  to  the 
afflicted  often  filled  me  with  admiration,  had  his  carriage 
placed  in  front  to  convey  the  family  of  the  deceased,  and 
then  a  long  line  of  other  neat  vehicles,  and  a  large  number 
on  foot,  formed  the  funeral  cortege.  And  as  we  moved 
towards  the  church,  in  low  sounds  were  uttered  eulogies, 
that  kings  might  covet.  And  when  his  body  was  lowered 
into  the  grave,  and  dust  was  committed  to  dust,  we  said 
"  Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord,  yea  saith  the 
spirit  from  henceforth,  for  they  rest  from  their  labors  and  their 
works  do  follow  them."  And  there  was  a  response  of  tears 
from  the  rich  and  the  poor ;  and  from  all  hearts  there  seemed 


114  IN   THE    SEPULCHRE 

to  go  up  the  silent  prayer — "  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the 
righteous,  and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his." 

'•  For  him  no  more  the  blazing  hearth  shall  burn, 
Or  busy  housewife  ply  her  evening  care ; 
No  children  run  to  lisp  their  sire's  return, 
Or  climb  his  knee,  the  envied  kiss  to  share." 

No !  he  sleeps  sweetly  in  the  grave,  and  his  memory  is 
blessed.  Farewell  my  first  spiritual  born  —  my  friend  and 
fellow-heir  of  glory. 

In  the  grave  also  rests  the  statesman  who  so  long  and 
gallantly  steered  the  ship  of  state  ;  faithfully  did  he  serve 
his  country  ;  in  war  and  in  peace  he  was  ever  the  true 
patriot ;  by  the  exertions  of  his  intellect  he  threw  of!"  many  a 
brilliant  page  for  his  country's  history ;  when  dangers  were 
present  he  was  ready  to  meet  them  ;  when  storms  darkened 
the  political  horizon  and  passions  rose  in  fearful  conflict  — 
when  the  body  politic  was  quivering  in  every  fibre  with  alarm, 
and  the  nation's  heart  trembled  almost  pulseless,  and  fear  had 
fallen  upon  the  people,  it  was  his  office  to  quiet  the  storm, 
and  to  heal  the  discords.  But,  ah !  how  often  was  his  spirit 
wounded  by  unkindness !  his  patriotic  exertions  were 
pronounced  the  fruits  of  selfishness,  and  the  ofllspring  of 
ambition  ;  the  eye  of  envy  was  ever  ready  to  detect  flaws  in 
his  character  —  the  tongue  of  slander  was  always  moving 
with  utterances  of  disparagement;  and  hands  which  should 
have  been  employed  in  weaving  garlands  to  decorate  his 
brow  were  busied  in  preparing  crowns  of  thorns  to  wound 
bis  temples ;    but,  in  the  midst  of  opposing  influences,  he 


THE    CONFLICTS    OP    LIFE    END.  115 

remained  firm  ;  true  to  his  cause,  sublime  in  his  conceptions 
of  duly,  and  exalted  in  his  convictions  of  that  which  would 
be  lasting  and  glorious  for  his  country,  he  stood  invested 
with  that  majestic  grandeur  which  the  gifted  Virgil  so 
eloquently  accords  to  Mezentius. 

"  He  like  a  solid  rock  by  seas  enclosed, 
To  raging  winds  and  roaring  waves  exposed, 
From  his  proud  summit  looking  down  disdains 
Their  empty  clamor,  and  unmoved  remains." 

Amonsf  the  thina;s  which  we  have  most  cause  to  mourn,  as 
a  people,  is  the  want  of  a  proper  appreciation  of  the  great  and 
useful  while  they  live.  No  sooner  does  it  become  manifest 
that  a  great  intellect  is  rising  and  shooting  its  beams  across 
the  earth,  than  there  are  those  found,  who,  instead  of  doing 
homage  to  the  rising  star,  labor  to  diminish  its  light,  and 
would,  if  they  could,  quench  its  glory  in  forgetfulness  and 
gloom.  But,  as  they  cannot  pluck  him  from  that  orbit  in 
which  he  is  fitted  to  move,  nor  yet  endure  the  strength  of  his 
shining,  their  hearts,  like  those  stagnant  pools  which  are 
troubled  by  the  sunbeams,  send  up  their  foul  vapors  to 
eclipse  his  brightness.  Prejudice,  envy,  and  selfishness  often 
render  men  incapable  of  appreciating  that  which  is  noble 
and  exalted.  And  it  is  a  humiliating  affliction  which  the 
patriot  must  endure,  to  have  his  path  beset,  his  progress 
trammeled,  and  his  efforts  encumbered  by  the  arts  and  low 
tricks  of  the  demagogue,  who  has  mistaken  himself  for  his 
country  —  who  would  be  content  to  thrive  on  the  ruins  of 
the  commonwealth  which  has  given  him  birth  and  shelter,  and 


116  IN   THE    SEPULCHRE 

v.ho  would  win  renown  by  scattering  with  his  vile  hands  to 
the  winds  the  ashes  of  her  greatness.  All  illustrious 
characters  are  doomed  to  encounter  the  displeasure  of  minds 
that  move  in  small  circles  and  give  birth  to  nothing  higher 
than  detraction.  Yea,  too  often  is  it  the  sad  experience  of 
those  who  have  done  most  to  advance  every  interest  of  the 
country,  and  to  make  her  history  luminous  with  gloiy,  that, 
instead  of  being  appreciated  and  honored,  (the  only  rewards 
after  which  the  lofty  intellect  aspires,)  they  are  neglected  and 
calumniated.  For  there  are  serpents  along  the  most 
flowery  paths  of  life,  who,  while  concealed  from  observation, 
are  ever  hissing  and  flinging  their  venom  upon  the  deserving 
and  the  just.  And  I  do  not  wonder  that  those  of  conscious 
intellectual  strength  and  uprightness  of  intention  sometimes 
feel  like  planting  their  foot  upon  those  hearts  that  never  throb 
with  a  generous  emotion,  and  crushing  them  as  they  would 
a  noisome  and  venomous  insect. 

Perhaps  none  can  know  but  those  whose  entire  existence  has 
been  devoted  to  unremitted  labor  in  public  life,  how  dearly 
purchased  was  every  honor  which  they  enjoyed.  But  he 
who  never  swerved  from  duty,  who  always  aimed  to  do 
right,  who  stood  unmoved  when  others  would  have  shrunk 
from  the  responsibilities  of  the  hour,  welcomes  the  calm  of 
life's  evening,  the  end  of  his  conflicts.  Sweet  are  the  closing 
hours  of  his  eventful  existence  when  the  storms  which  beat 
upon  him  are  sighing  out  their  last  groans,  and  the  war  of 
elements  which  raged  around  him  is  dying  away.  The  sun 
sometimes   appears   far   more   brilliant   and    glorious  when 


THE   CONFLICTS   OF   LIFE   END.  117 

setting  in  the  calm  of  an  evening  sky,  than  while  he  walked 
the  firmament,  partly  obscured  by  the  vapors  which  rose  from 
the  marshes  and  lowlands  which  he  warmed.  And  so  he, 
who  long  and  faithfully  stood  upon  the  watch-towers  of  free- 
dom, and  whose  bosom  bears  many  a  scar  received  in  those 
battles  through  which  the  nation  struggled  to  greatness  and 
to  glory,  retires  into  the  valley  of  death  far  more  res})lendent 
than  he  ever  was  in  life,  doing  homage  to  Christianity  by 
leaning  only  upon  the  staff  of  its  promises,  confessing  that  God 
and  eternity  alone  are  great,  and  is  followed  by  a  nation's 
regrets  and  tears.  Here,  then,  in  the  sepulchre  he 
reposes  —  the  envied,  the  hated,  and  the  loved.  Here  no 
enemy  pursues  him  ;  no  shaft  of  calumny  pierces  ;  no  vexa- 
tious and  wasting  cares  annoy  him  in  his  quiet  retreat.  The 
many  brilliant  conflicts  with  other  intellects  are  ended,  and 
he  sleeps  humbly  and  peacefully  as  a  child.  And  now,  with- 
drawn from  the  forum  and  the  senate,  he  lives  in  many 
devoted  hearts ;  and  as  the  page  of  history  unfolds  his 
illustrious  deeds  and  exalted  virtues,  even  those  who  were 
wont  to  depreciate  his  worth  are  loud  in  their  applauses. 

Here,  also,  rest  those  who  were  the  originators  and 
scpporters  of  humane  and  Christian  enterprises.  Hard  did 
they  struggle  to  usher  into  existence  and  bring  into  favor  with 
the  public  those  homes  for  the  unfortunate  and  wTetched, 
which  have  shed  consolation  and  peace  into  desolate  antl 
weary  hearts.  Feeling  for  "  others'  woes,"  they  went  forth 
on  errands  of  mercy,  their  feet  rejoicing  in  the  way  of  benevo- 
lence, and  their  hands  never  weary  in  dispensing  blessings. 


118  IN   THE    SEPULCHRE 

They  founded  hospitals  and  asylums  for  the  unfortunate 
and  sick.  They  provided  homes  for  the  outcasts,  and 
became  the  friends  of  the  friendless.  It  is  amazing,  when 
^Ye  inquire  into  the  origin  of  charitable  institutions,  through 
\vhat  difficulties  they  pressed  into  existence,  and  what  oppo- 
sition they  encountered  all  along  their  progress  until  the  tide 
of  public  sympathy  began  to  flow  in  their  favor.  Nothing 
but  a  deep,  unsullied,  and  operative  love  for  the  poor  and 
benighted,  and  the  consciousness  of  the  immense  and  lasting 
benefits  to  society,  could  have  sustained  those  noble  souls, 
through  whose  exertions  those  moral  enterprises  were  set 
on  foot  which  now  send  out  their  healing  streams  through 
all  the  earth.  Whether  the  blessings  which  these  are 
designed  to  convey  are  bodily  or  spiritual,  or  both,  they 
required  the  toil  of  years  to  bring  them  into  general  favor. 
It  was  long  before  the  generous  sailor  found  a  safe  asylum, 
after  he  was  so  worn  and  weather-beaten  in  the  service  of  his 
country  that  he  was  no  longer  able  to  discharge  the  duties 
of  his  calling  ;  for  temples,  and  bethels,  and  chaplains  for 
those  who  go  down  into  the  sea,  and  pause  at  Christian 
ports  like  birds  of  passage,  were  only  recently  secured  for 
this  class  of  men,  who  are  the  general  benefactors  of  society. 
Protracted  and  indefatigable  exertions  were  required,  even 
in  connection  with  the  winning  and  constraining  power  of  a 
Christian  lady,  who,  with  the  spirit  of  a  Howard,  has  jour- 
neyed from  State  to  State,  and  it  was  by  her  faithful  represen- 
tations of  the  neglect,  and  in  some  instances  the  inhumanity 
with  which  the  poor  insane  were  treated  in  our  almshouses,  tliat 


THE    CONFLICTS    OP    LIFE    END.  119 

she  prevailed  on  legislators  to  provide  comfortable  asylums 
and  proper  care  and  treatment  for  this  unhappy  class  of 
citizens.  And  such  is  the  early  history  of  all  other  institu- 
tions which  demanded  the  active  charities  of  men  to  give 
them  life  and  make  them  a  blessing.  All  made  many  ineffec- 
tual appeals,  met  with  cold  looks  and  blunt  refusals,  and  some- 
times with  open  opposition.  Rocky,  indeed,  is  the  human 
heart ;  for  only  will  its  sympathies  warmly  and  freely  flow 
after  it  is  smitten  with  the  rod  of  Jesse.  Rest  then  in  peace, 
ye  true-hearted  and  self-sacrificing  friends  of  humanity  !  Ye 
endured  the  scorn  of  the  heartless,  and  the  abuse  of  the 
covetous,  but  you  bore  yourselves  nobly,  and  triumphed  ; 
and  now  that  the  Mission  which  has  borne  salvation  to  the 
far-off  heathen,  and  the  society  which  gives  an  open  Bible  to 
the  poor,  and  those  other  instrumentalities  which  make  glad 
the  distressed,  and  light  millions  on  the  road  to  heaven, 
while  all  these  institutions  are  shedding  life,  light,  and  happi- 
ness over  an  afflicted  world,  ye  slumber  in  the  hallowed 
grave.  Your  conflicts  have  ended  in  the  tomb,  and  your 
souls  have  found  repose  in  heaven;  and  of  you  it  has  already 
been  written  — 


«'  To  the  blind,  the  deaf,  the  lame, 

To  the  ignorant  and  vile. 
Stranger,  captive,  slave,  ye  came, 

With  a  welcome  and  a  smile. 
Help  to  all  ye  did  dispense. 

Gold,  instruction,  raiment,  food ; 
Like  the  gifts  of  Providence, 

To  the  evil  and  the  good." 


120  IN    THE    SEPULCHRE 

In  the  sepulchre  end  also  the  trials  and  labors  of  the 
ambassador  of  God :  although  he  had  gone  forth  with  a 
commission  drawn  in  heaven,  bearing  the  seal  of  the  King  of 
Kings,  and  with  messages  of  peace  from  the  Sovereign  of  the 
universe  to  a  revolted  world,  yet  was  he  not  received  by  those 
lo  whom  he  preached  the  "  Good  News  "  as  an  accredited 
messenger  from  the  court  of  heaven.  The  multitude  heard 
with  indifference  the  solemn  words  of  life  and  of  death,  of 
heaven  and  of  hell.  Some  smiled  at  his  earnestness  ;  others 
ridiculed  and  scorned  ;  and  because  they  would  not  take 
warning  and  flee  the  wrath  to  come  he  wept  in  secret  for 
them.  And  those  who  hearkened  to  his  words  and  yielded 
submission  to  the  claims  of  God,  often  filled  him  with 
anxieties,  and  caused  him  to  wet  his  pillow  with  midnight 
tears.  For  behold  their  friendships  were  fickle,  their  piety 
unstable,  and  they  loathed  the  descending  manna  because 
they  lusted  after  the  grosser  meats  of  base  appetites ;  and 
after  they  had  been  a  while  in  the  green  pastures  and  along 
the  pleasant  streams  of  salvation,  they  went  back  and  "  walked 
no  more  with  Jesus."  All  this  afflicted  the  pastor's  heart, 
and  he  cried  —  "0!  that  my  head  were  waters  and  mine 
eyes  fountains  of  tears,  that  I  might  weep  day  and  night  for 
the  slain  of  the  daughter  of  my  people."  Faithful  ones  there 
were  who  sympathised  with  his  work,  and  who  stood  around 
him  and  ministered  like  Aarons  and  Hurs ;  but  these  knew  but 
few  of  the  pressures  and  conflicts  of  the  man  of  God.  Afflic- 
tion and  poverty  both  did  their  office  in  weaning  his  affections 
from  the  things  that  are  seen,  and  causing  him  to  cast  the 


THE   CONFLICTS   OF   LIFE   EXD.  121 

anchor  of  his  hope  within  the  veil  as  the  only  place  where 
they  shall  neither  hunger  nor  thirst ;  where  there  are  neither 
pains  nor  tears,  and  where  the  inhabitant  shall  no  more  say  I 
am  sick.  Well  do  I  remember  a  faithful,  godly  man,  whom 
I  was  accustomed  to  hear  in  my  childhood  declare  tlie  un- 
searchable riches  of  Christ.  Age  and  want  came  with  their 
infirmities  and  cares  ;  and  because  his  tongue  was  no  longer 
like  the  pen  of  a  ready  writer,  and  there  were  itching  cars 
and  fastidious  hearers,  the  venerable  minister  became  a 
burden,  and  his  voice  could  no  longer  charm  the  dull  ear. 
After  a  little  manoeuvring  and  hesitation,  it  was  concluded 
that  he  should  be  dismissed.  He  was  duly  informed  that  he 
could  no  longer  preach  for  the  people  who  had  grown  up 
under  his  service.  Penniless  and  infirm,  he  was  thrown  out 
to  be  cared  for  as  the  fowls  of  the  air,  "  which  neither  sow 
nor  reap,  nor  gather  into  barns."  The  blow^  was  too  severe 
for  the  feebleness  of  age,  and  God  in  mercy  permitted  him 
to  become  the  second  time  a  child.  And  often  did  he  wander 
to  the  sanctuary  whose  doors  had  been  closed  against  him,  and 
there  he  sat  by  the  gate  of  the  temple  and  wept  away  his  hour, 
and  then  returned  to  his  cheerless  home.  Sometimes  he 
would  lose  himself;  and  often  did  I  direct  his  wandering 
footsteps  into  the  way  that  led  to  his  home ;  and  when  assured 
that  he  was  in  the  right  road,  with  a  countenance  beaming 
with  kindness  he  would  dismiss  me,  saying,  "  God  bless  you, 
dear  boy."  But  after  a  few  years  thus  spent,  the  Lord 
brought  his  pilgrimage  to  a  close,  for  He  took  him,  and  we 
were  invited  to  follow  his  remains  to  the  sepulchre.  Well 
11 


122  IN    THE    SEPULCHRE 

do  I  remember  that  solemn  occasion  ;  for  although  a  mere 
lad,  the  scene  made  such  an  impression  upon  my  mind  that  it 
is  vividly  before  me  even  now.  The  words  of  the  preacher 
came  with  thrilling  power,  as  he  pointed  to  that  coffin  which 
contained  the  shrouded  form  of  the  holy  man,  and  said,  "He 
being  dead  yet  speaketh."  Ah,  yes!  he  spoke  even  then  to 
many  a  heart.  Lessons  long  forgotten  and  unimproved,  which 
had  been  uttered  by  those  lips  sealed  by  death,  rose  to  the 
mind  with  an  urgency  and  force  they  never  had  before. 
Years  have  passed  away ;  my  childhood  is  gone,  and  the  flight 
of  time  has  carried  me  far  in  the  race  of  life  ;  but  the  vener- 
able form  of  that  holy  man  is  ever  present  as  a  faithful 
monitor,  and  that  coffin  has  ever  since  been  a  silent  but 
eloquent  preacher  to  my  soul.  Blessed  servant  of  Jesus,  thou 
art  at  rest ;  thy  conflicts  are  over,  and  thy  soul  has  found 
repose.  May  I  be  as  faithful  as  tliou  hast  been  ;  and  if  a 
mysterious  but  wise  Providence  should  ordain  for  me  as  it 
did  for  thee,  want,  sickness,  age,  and  the  loss  of  friends 
whose  graves  are  not  dug,  yea,  even  exclusion  from  the  public 
altars  of  religion,  may  I  be  faithful,  humble,  submissive,  and 
trustful,  that  with  thee  I  may  wear  the  crown  after  death  has 
released  me  from  the  cross. 

The  sepulchre  also  holds  the  precious  dust  of  the  children 
of  affliction.  The  physician  and  the  minister  of  religion  are 
perhaps  the  only  persons  who  have  any  considerable  know- 
ledge of  the  amount  of  suffering  and  distress  in  human 
society.  Their  mission  is  often  to  those  who  are  pining 
away  in  sorrow,  unknown  and  uncared  for  by  the  masses  of 


THE   CONFLICTS   OF   LIFE   END.  123 

men.  The  vocation  of  the  minister  brings  him  in  contact 
with  the  great,  the  rich,  and  the  poor,  and  conducts  him 
through  all  the  walks  of  humble  and  exalted  life.  He 
is  sometimes  found  in  the  stately  mansion,  but  oftener  in  the 
humble  retreats  of  poverty :  and  sometimes  he  finds  the  rich 
and  the  great  restless  and  unhappy  when  stretched  upon  beds 
of  down,  though  under  the  most  skilful  treatment  and 
ministered  to  by  gentle  hands.  And  what  discontent,  what 
murmurs  often  rise  from  those,  whether  rich  or  poor,  who  are 
seldom  indisposed,  and  whose  few  days  of  illness  are  so 
impatiently  borne,  that  it  is  a  relief  to  all  their  attendants 
when  they  are  again  able  to  leave  the  chamber  of  affliction ! 
It  is  not  of  those  I  would  speak,  as  persons  who  look  to  the 
sepulchre  as  the  end  of  their  conflicts  and  trials :  I  might 
relate  many  afTecting  and  instructive  incidents  which  have 
fallen  under  my  notice  ;  but,  as  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  crowd 
these  pages  with  any  more  examples  than  are  simply  sufficient 
to  illustrate  the  caption  of  this  chapter,  I  wfll  introduce  but 
one  more  to  the  reader,  whose  history  cannot  fail  to  engage 
his  attention.  In  the  commencement  of  my  ministry  I  was 
settled  among  a  plain  but  interesting  people  ;  among  the  first 
with  whom  I  formed  an  acquaintance  was  an  aged  lady,  who 
had  then  already  been  painfully  afflicted  for  eight  or  nine 
years.  I  soon  discovered  that  she  was  an  humble  child  of 
God,  and  a  quiet  and  patient  suff"erer.  She  was  almost 
entirely  helpless,  and  dependent  upon  a  devoted  and  amiable 
daughter  for  such  attentions  as  she  might  need  by  day  and 
by  night.     She   anticipated  the  wants  of  her   mother,  and 


124  IN    THE    SEPULCHRE 

soothed  her  in  her  sorrows  as  well  as  she  could.  For  the 
space  of  ten  years  were  my  visits  and  ministrations  continued 
to  the  dwellers  in  that  humble  but  delightful  home.  They 
lived  in  a  neat  little  cottage  which  stood  a  short  distance  from 
the  public  road,  almost  hid  by  trees  and  covered  with  the  ivy 
and  the  honey-suckle.  Although  they  enjoyed  the  comforts 
of  life  they  had  not  the  abundance  and  luxuries  of  the  rich. 
But  there  was  peace  and  contentment ;  and  over  her  frugal 
board  that  afflicted  mother  uttered  the  prayer  of  another  — 
"  all  this,  and  Jesus  Christ  too."  To  my  inquiries  about  her 
health  she  answered  meekly  and  with  holy  resignation. 
"  My  sufferings,"  she  would  say,  "  are  nothing  compared 
with  those  which  my  dear  Saviour  endured  for  me.  And 
then  there  are  many  others  who  have  not  the  comforts  that  I 
have,  nor  this  blessed  Bible,  nor  such  kind  children  and 
neighbors.  And  then  my  trials  will  all  end,  and  I  hope  it 
may  please  the  Lord  to  take  me  to  heaven  when  he  sees  that 
it  is  enough ;  and  until  then  he  will  give  me  grace  tq  bear  my 
afflictions."  Although  Ifer  pains  often  held  her  waking 
during  the  night,  she  would  add,  "  I  can  bear  them  a  little 
better  to-day."  And  often,  while  her  countenance  was  radiant 
with  joy  as  we  spoke  of  Jesus,  and  our  pilgrimage  and  future 
home,  her  anguish  of  body  would  send  forth  involuntary 
groans.  When  conscious  that  she  betrayed  signs  of  distress 
she  would  check  herself,  and  with  an  effort  suppress  the  rising 
sigh.  O !  what  grace  was  needed ;  and  what  a  hold  she 
must  have  had  upon  God,  and  what  a  large  measure  of  the 
spirit  of  the  Lamb  of  God,  that  she  could  be  so  fully  resigned 


THE    CONFLICTS    OF    LIFE    END.  125 

to  llie  will  of  heaven  as  she  looked  out  for  years  from  her 
cottage  window  upon  a  landscape  so  beautiful ;  so  full  of  life 
and  health,  and  herself  experience  no  spring-time  of  renewed 
strength.  But  she  never  murmured.  There  is  no  spot  on 
earth  which  I  remember  with  more  pleasure ;  none  where  I 
learned  so  much  the  value  of  the  gospel ;  and  none  where  I 
saw  those  Christian  graces,  humility,  patience,  and  resignation 
to  the  Divine  will,  shine  with  such  a  heavenly  lustre.  It  was 
good  to  be  there.  And  there  was  no  place  during  my  ministry 
among  that  people  where  I  enjoyed  a  more  sensible  nearness 
to  God,  or  had  a  richer  foretaste  of  the  blessed  realities  of 
heaven,  than  in  that  little  cottage.  Although  none  of  the 
great  of  the  earth  visited  her  humble  dwelling,  God  and  his 
angels  cheered  that  home  with  their  presence.  Sweet  were 
those  seasons  of  communion,  when  I  broke  to  her  the  bread 
of  life  and  gave  her  the  cup  of  blessing;  and  blessed  are  the 
memories  of  those  occasions.  After  a  period  of  incessant  and 
painful  sufTering,  of  about  twenty  years,  the  good  Lord  took 
his  servant  home.  A  letter  from  her  daughter,  who  w^as  her 
faithful  attendant  through  all  her  suffering,  announcing  her 
death  to  us,  says  she  died  "  sweetly  and  calmly  as  the 
closing  day."  Earnestly  had  she  longed  for  the  repose  of  the 
sepulchre,  but  patiently  did  she  w^ait  for  her  appointed  time ; 
and  now,  delivered  from  her  conflicts,  she  has  passed  from 
her  twenty  years  of  suffering  into  an  eternity  of  joy.  Dearly 
beloved  one,  I  mourn  thee  as  my  fond  and  faithful  friend, 
and  rejoice  with  thee  that  thou  hast  overcome,  and  now 
wearest  the  crown  of  life.  The  book  of  God  will  show  what 
11* 


126  IN    THE    SEPULCHRE 

blessings  descended  upon  me  and  my  family,  and  upon  my 
ministry  through  your  prayers.  For  as  a  fountain  in  the 
wilderness  unobserved  sends  up  its  vapors,  which  empty 
themselves  upon  the  thirsty  plain,  so  did  thy  prayers  rise  like 
holy  and  acceptable  incense  into  the  presence  of  Jehovah, 
and  return  in  refreshing  showers  of  grace  upon  the  heritage 
of  God.  But  thy  days  of  weariness  and  thy  nights  of  anguish 
are  over ;  thy  poor  afflicted  body  shall  know  no  more  pain  ; 
thy  worn  and  weary  spirit  shall  no  more  sigh  in  exile  from 
heaven. 

"  Calm  on  the  bosom  of  thy  God 
Fair  spirit!  rest  thee  now, 
Even  while  with  us  thy  footsteps  trode, 

His  seal  was  on  thy  brow, 
Dust  to  its  narrow  house  beneath, 

Soul  to  its  place  on  high  ! 
They  that  have  seen  thy  look  in  death, 
No  more  may  fear  to  die." 

Yes,  in  the  peaceful  grave  our  labors,  our  conflicts,  and 
trials  shall  all  end.  Up,  then,  ye  desponding  expectants  of 
heaven  !  gird  up  your  loins  and  be  panoplied  with  the  armor 
of  faith,  and  weather  the  storm,  for  it  will  soon  have  spent 
itself  or  landed  you  on  the  bright  shores  of  a  happy  eternity. 
Behold  !  even  now  are  those  clouds  of  dark  calamity  spanned 
by  the  bow  of  promise — they  are  rolling  off,  and  eternal  sun- 
shine will  soon  flash  around  you;  for  a  cloudless  day  of  glory 
will  be  the  inheritance  of  all  "  who  wait  for  thy  salvation,  0  ! 
God."  Up,  then,  ye  downcast  under  a  weight  of  suffering, 
and  make  Christ  your  example  and  your  refuge.  Under  the 
pressure  of  a  load  that  would  have  crushed  the  universe,  he 


THE    CONFLICTS    OP    LIFE    END.  127 

says,  "the  cup  which  my  father  hath  given  me,  shall  I  not 
drink  it  ?"  Lift  up  your  eyes  from  the  gloom  of  your  chamber, 
tlie  wreck  of  your  hopes  and  your  friendships,  and  say  with  the 
Master,  "  Father,  thy  will  be  done."  For  what  are  even 
twenty  or  more  years,  of  keen  and  unceasing  anguish,  during 
which  shock  after  shock  is  felt,  which  sends  tremors  of  pain 
quivering  through  every  fibre  of  our  frame  —  and  wave  after 
wave  rolls  over  our  heads,  if  meekly  endured,  and  we  are 
"  exercised  thereby  in  righteousness  ;"  they  will  be  succeeded 
by  rapturous  glory.  One  moment  in  heaven  will  be  worth  a 
whole  lifetime  of  affliction.  And  as  the  flowing  fountain  is 
prized  most  by  him  who  comes  panting  from  the  burning 
desert  —  and  food  and  rest  are  most  grateful  to  him  who  has 
journeyed  over  a  long  and  rugged  path,  so  will  the  fouutain 
of  living  waters  be  the  more  refreshing,  and  eternal  rest  all 
the  sweeter  to  the  spirit  that  has  grown  worn  and  weary  on 
a  long  and  painful  road.  Tempted,  suffering  soul,  cling  then 
to  the  cross,  and  cast  the  anchor  of  your  hope  fast  by  the 
throne  of  God,  and  your  frail,  weather-beaten  bark  will 
not  only  outride  the  storm,  but  finally  sweep  into  the  haven 
of  endless  peace  amid  the  shouts  and  hosannahs  of  the 
redeemed. 


CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 

AT  THE  SEPULCHRES  OF  OUR  DEPARTED  WE 
MAY  LEARN  THE  VALUE  OF  LIFE. 


"Life  is  before  ye  ;  from  the  fated  road 
Ye  cannot  turn ;  then  take  ye  up  the  load. 
Not  your's  to  tread,  or  leave  the  unknown  way ; 
Ye  must  go  o'er  it,  meet  ye  what  ye  may  ; 
Gird  up  your  souls  within  you  to  the  deed ; 
Angels  and  fellow-spirits  bid  you  speed ! 
What  though  the  brightness  wane,  the  pleasure  fade, 
The  glory  dim !  oh,  not  of  these  is  made 
The  awful  life  that  to  your  trust  is  given. 
Children  of  God!  Inhei'itors  of  heaven!" 


0,  Life!  thou  etliereal,  intangible  something,  what  art 
thou .''  To  us  thou  art  known  only  in  the  emblems  of  thy 
frailty.  Thou  art  like  the  springing  grass,  "  in  the  morning 
it  groweth  up,  and  in  the  evening  it  is  cut  down  and  wlther- 
eth."  Thou  art  like  the  vapor  which  floats  a  moment  on  the 
wind  and  then  vanishes  into  air.  How  shall  we  think  and 
speak  of  thee,  so  that  we  may  rightly  understand  thy  worth  ? 
Thou  art  beautiful  or  sad  ;  thou  art  bright  or  sullen ;  thou  art 
loved  or  loathed  ;  thou  art  on  the  swift  wing  of  the  dove,  or 
travelest  snail-like,  just  as  our  condition  fits  or  disposes  us 
to  view  thee  in  one  or  the  other  of  those  countless  hues  with 

(128) 


AT   THE   SEPULCHRES,   ETC.  129 

which  our  ever-varying  state  invests  thee.  To  the  wretched 
thou  appearest  as  a  starless  night  swept  by  storms  and 
tempests ;  to  the  youthful  and  the  happy  thou  art  like  a  bird 
from  paradise,  scattering  sweet  odors  from  thy  wings,  making 
their  path  beautiful  and  fragrant.  What  shall  we  call  thee  ? 
Thou  art  — 

"  A  flower  that  doth  -with  opening  morn  arise, 

And  flourishing  the  day,  at  evening  dies  ; 

A  winged  eastern  blast,  just  skimming  o'er 

The  ocean's  brow,  and  sinking  on  the  shore ; 

A  fire  whose  crackling  flames  through  stubble  fly, 

A  meteor  shooting  from  the  summer  sky ; 

A  bowl  adown  the  bending  mountains  roll'd, 

A  bubble  breaking,  and  a  fable  told ; 

A  noontide  shadow,  and  a  midnight  dream. 

Are  emblems  which  with  semblance  apt  proclaim 

Our  earthly  course." 

Such  imagery  fitly  represents  the  fleeting  character  of  our 
present  life  ;  and  yet,  uncertain  and  transient  as  it  is,  the 
interests  of  two  worlds  are  pressed  within  its  limits,  and  all 
the  blessings  or  woes  which  eternity  has  in  store  for  the  soul 
are  gathered  within  the  brief  space  of  our  existence  in  the 
flesh.  And  while  a  thousand  incidents  around  us  admonish 
us  of  the  shortness  of  our  stay  on  earth,  and  those  high  con- 
siderations which. lay  hold  on  eternal  ages  demonstrate  to  us 
the  priceless  worth  of  passing  moments,  and  the  ambassadors 
of  Christ  ring  in  our  ears  the  words  of  the  Master,  "  work 
while  it  is  day,  for  the  night  cometh  in  which  no  man  can 
work,"  there  is  no  place  where  we  are  more  deeply  impressed 
with  the  value  of  life  than  at  the  sepulchres  of  our  departed. 
For  here  a  voice,  solemn  and  thrilling,  rises  from  out  the 


130  AT    THE    SEPULCHRES,    WE    MAY 

stillness  of  that  tomb  in  which  they  moulder,  saying,  "  What- 
soever thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might ;  for 
there  is  no  work,  nor  device,  nor  knowledge,  nor  w'isdom,  in 
the  grave  whither  thou  goest."  It  inculcates  lessons  of 
industry ;  and  industry  is  essential  to  advancement  in 
temporal  and  spiritual  things.  But  this  admonition  has  more 
particular  reference  to  our  moral  preparation  for  another 
world ;  as  if  it  said,  whatsoever  remains  to  be  done  in  rela- 
tion to  your  personal  salvation,  do  it  quickly.  If  repentance 
has  been  deferred,  delay  it  no  longer,  for  there  may  be  but  a 
step  between  thee  and  the  grave.  Smitten  in  our  original 
head,  the  whole  race  is  corrupt  and  divorced  from  the  joys 
of  God's  favor  and  a  holy  immortality.  "From  the  crown 
of  the  head  to  the  soles  of  the  feet  there  are  wounds  and 
bruises,  and  putrefying  sores."  The  whole  man,  with  all  his 
faculties  and  powers,  has  been  swept  with  the  blight  and 
desolation  of  moral  death.  There  is  no  seed  of  life  in  the 
unregenerate  heart ;  and  no  immortal  hopes  grow  spontane- 
ously in  the  human  soul.  Fallen  from  God  and  cut  off  from 
heaven,  there  is  no  help  in  us  ;  for  we  are  destitute  of  those 
resources  which  are  absolutely  necessary  to  make  us  new 
creatures.  And  unless  the  hand  of  Omnipotence  lifts  us  oxit 
of  that  horrible  pit  into  which  sin  has  cast  us,  and  our  feet 
out  of  the  miry  clay  of  inward  corruptions,  and  places  us 
upon  the  Rock  and  establishes  our  goings,  our  mouth  will 
never  be  filled  with  the  new  song  of  salvation  and  praise  to 
our  God.  For  "  he  that  believeth  not  the  Son  shall  not  see 
life;  but  the  wrath  of  God  abideth  on  him."     If  we  are 


LEARN  THE  VALUE  OP  LIFE.  131 

Still  unconverted  we  have  yet  a  great  work  to  perform,  and 
one  which  it  is  not  wise  to  delay  a  single  moment.  God 
cries  to  us  with  earnest  solicitude,  "  To-day  if  you  will  hear 
my  voice  harden  not  your  hearts."  The  duty  of  this  prepa- 
ration presses  with  tremendous  urgency ;  for  as  death  finds 
us  we  will  remain  through  all  the  revolving  cycles  of  eternity. 
Heaven  once  lost,  is  lost  forever!  And  while  the  unseen 
arrows  of  the  destroyer  fly  thickly  and  fatally  around  us,  and 
our  moments  are  on  the  wing,  the  magnitude  and  weight  of 
those  great  interests  heyond  the  grave  surely  demand  imme- 
diate attention. 

Withdraw  not  then  thy  mind  from  those  considerations  of 
the  brevity  and  value  of  life  which  cluster  around  the  tomb, 
until  thy  soul  has  bowed  in  deep  abasement  and  unreserved 
submission  to  that  God  who  holds  your  breath,  and  whose  dis- 
pleasure could  send  you  this  moment  uncheered  into  the  grave, 
and  hopeless  into  a  dread  eternity.  Go,  kneel  by  the 
mouldering  remains  of  your  cherished  ones,  and  there,  all  help- 
less and  destitute  of  power  to  form  your  soul  anew,  look  away 
from  your  feebleness  unto  Him  "  who  is  mighty  to  save, 
even  to  the  uttermost,  all  them  that  come  unto  God  through 
Him,"  and  turn  from  all  human  helpers  to  a  crucified 
Redeemer  "  who  is  made  unto  us,  wisdom,  righteousness, 
sanctification,  and  complete  redemption."  Yes,  look  to 
Calvary  and  fix  your  trust  upon  that  crimson  flood  which 
gushes  from  the  wounded  Lamb,  until  a  living  faith  forms 
the  vital  bond  of  union  between  you  and  the  source  of  life 
and  salvation,  and  you  can  rejoice  in  the  hope  of  the  glory 


132  AT    THE    SEPULCHRES,   WE    MAY 

of  God.  For,  as  the  Israelites  in  the  wilderness,  when 
stung  by  fiery  serpents,  would  have  perished  had  they  looked 
at  their  wounds  only,  and  not  at  the  brazen  serpent  which 
Moses  had  elevated  as  the  divinely  ordained  means  of  their 
healing,  so  the  soul  stung  by  sin  is  never  restored  to  spiri- 
tual health  until  it  looks  away  from  its  wounds,  and  its 
prayers  and  its  tears,  to  the  only  hope  of  perishing  sinners, 
Jesus  crucified.  Then,  and  then  only  will  he  experience  the 
inflowings  of  a  new  life,  and  rejoice  in  a  conscious  renova- 
tion of  his  nature.  And,  adopting  the  language  of  Paul,  he 
will  triumphantly  exclaim,  "I  am  crucified  unto  the  world, 
nevertheless  I  live  ;  yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me  ;  and 
the  life  which  I  now  live,  I  live  by  faith  on  the  Son  of  God 
who  loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for  me." 

But  if  you  have  been  begotten  unto  a  lively  hope,  and  your 
faith  has  placed  you  in  fellowship  with  the  Father  and  the 
Son,  as  a  Christian,  you  have  many  and  urgent  duties  to 
discharge,  and  to  you  does  the  sepulchre  also  say.  What- 
soever thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might.  Have 
you  a  family?  Then,  there  you  have  an  important  field  to 
cultivate.  It  must  be  o;uarded  from  blig^htino:  and  desolating 
winds,  and  kept  free  from  all  briars  and  thorns,  that  you  may 
contemplate  with  joy  your  home  as  a  garden  ornamented 
with  flowers,  and  fragrant  with  the  odors  of  love.  Those 
children  are  to  be  instructed  —  their  minds  enriched  with 
lessons  of  wisdom,  and  their  hearts  peopled  with  kind  feel- 
ings and  benevolent  affections.  Patience,  industry,  prudence 
and  perseverance  must  all  unite  in  this  work.     The  artist 


LEARN  THE  VALUE  OF  LIFE.  133 

who  sits  (Iowa  to  a  block  of  marble  does  not,  by  one  blow 
of  the  hammer  and  one  touch  of  the  chisel,  cause  it  to  leap 
out  into  the  symmetrical  statue  which  is  to  immortalize  his 
name  ;  but  months  and  years  of  application  of  his  skill  and 
toil  are  needed  to  give  that  statue  a  place  in  the  cabinet,  and 
draw  around  it  admiring  crowds.  And  it  is  not  by  one 
good  lesson,  but  by  often  repeated  precepts  and  long  and 
laborious  culture,  that  the  character  of  the  child  is  so 
fashioned  as  to  charm  amongst  men  and  to  be  admired 
by  angels.  Patiently  sits  the  painter  to  his  task  ;  and  only 
after  many  strokes  of  his  pencil  you  shall  behold  the  rough 
outlines  of  human  features ;  and  only  after  many  delicate 
touches  are  given  does  the  canvass  glow  whh  the  form  of 
beauty,  and  look  life-like  and  breathing.  And  it  is  only 
when  we  address  ourselves  to  the  work  with  the  determina- 
tion that  we  will  accomplish  it,  even  if  our  efforts  are 
stretched  through  years,  that  we  shall  succeed  in  imprinting 
the  graces  of  virtue  upon  the  characters  of  our  children. 
Daily  instructions,  accompanied  with  the  force  of  an  example 
which  corresponds  with  our  precepts,  are  needed  to  n:ake 
our  offspring  intelligent  and  holy.  I  knew  two  neighbors, 
who,  on  a  spring  morning,  obtained  from  a  friend  each  a 
scion  of  a  valued  tree,  and  they  both  returned  to  their  homes 
rejoicing.  Each  planted  his  precious  shoot.  But  the  one  care- 
lessly and  unwisely  placed  it  in  a  rocky  soil,  and  after  refresh- 
ing it  once  or  twice  with  water,  suffered  it  to  grow  as  best  it 
could.  And  it  was  not  long  before  it  drooped  and  died,  and 
his  labor  was  lost,  and  his  hope  disappointed.  But  the  odier 
12 


134  AT    THE    SEPULCHRES,    WE    MAY 

more  wisely  selected  good  soil  by  the  side  of  a  living  brook, 
and  tenderly  set  his  plant  in  the  ground.  I  saw  him  lay  soft 
earth  around  the  delicate  fibres  ©f  its  roots,  and  he  gave  it  a 
support  that  the  winds  might  not  disturb  it  until  it  had 
acquired  sirength  to  stand:  and  it  grew,  and  its  boughs 
expanded,  and  the  fowls  of  heaven  came  and  made  music  in 
its  branches,  and  it  yielded  pleasant  fruit,  and  all  that  passed 
by  said,  behold  how  beautiful  and  good!  And  so  have  I 
seen  a  precious  child,  a  gift  from  the  Lord,  planted  in  the 
hard  and  barren  soil  of  unbelief,  where  no  prayer  softened  it, 
where  no  dews  of  grace  descended  to  bless  and  fructify ; 
and  that  tender  plnnt,  tossed  by  the  breath  of  sin  and 
shaken  by  the  storms  of  profanity,  soon  had  its  innocence 
withered  and  its  beauty  blighted,  and  it  stood  as  a  blasted 
tree  without  comeliness  or  fruit,  and  I  wept  and  passed  on. 
But  I  came  to  another,  who,  at  the  same  time,  had  brought 
to  him  by  an  angel  a  sprig  from  the  tree  of  life,  and  I 
wondered  how  I  should  find  that  child  which  he  had 
received  with  trembling.  And  behold,  he  had  restrained 
it  from  the  w^ay  of  the  ungodly,  and  kept  it  from  the  seat 
of  the  scornful,  and  caused  it  to  delight  in  the  law  of  the 
Lord,  and  made  the  streams  which  gladden  the  city  of  God 
flow  around  it ;  and  lo !  it  grew,  and  God  delighted  in  it, 
and  in  its  presence  the  tears  of  helpless  orphanage  forgot  to 
flow,  and  widowed  hearts  sang  around  it  for  joy.  Great 
indeed  is  the  work  and  fearful  the  responsibility  which 
devolves  upon  parents.  A  work  which  should  be  commenced 
even  before  our  offspring  are  born,  and  not  remitted  until 


LEARN  THE  VALUE  OF  LIFE.  135 

they  have  entered  heaven.  It  is  while  the  rivulet 
warbles  its  faintest  song  that  we  may  form  its  subsequent 
broad  and  peaceful  current.  If  in  its  early  outflows  it  is  left 
to  seek  its  own  channel,  it  will  wind  its  way  into  gloomy 
forests,  and  flow  by  serpents'  nests  and  gather  in  their  venom  ; 
or  it  will  expand  into  the  marsh  and  become  a  stagnant  pool 
whose  noxious  vapors  will  breed  the  pestilence  ;  or  it  will 
dash  and  foam  over  shelving  rocks  until  its  angry  current  is 
lost  in  the  abyss  of  the  ocean.  It  is  thus  with  the  life  of  the 
infant  child  :  control  it  while  its  passions  are  weak,  and  its 
corruptions  slumber;  direct  the  out-goings  of  its  soul  towards 
God,  and  as  it  grows  in  stature  and  in  spirit,  "  its  peace  will 
be  like  a  river  and  its  righteousness  as  the  waves  of  the  sea." 
Earl}  acquaint  it  with  its  sinfulness,  and  gently  draw  upon  it 
the  moulding  hand  of  the  Saviour.  In  the  morning  of  life 
put  forth  your  exertions  for  its  salvation  —  pray  with  it  and 
for  it,  for  it  is  while  the  clay  is  impressible  and  yielding  that 
the  potter  forms  his  vessel.  And  forget  not  to  keep  your  life 
unspotted  from  the  world  and  clothed  with  holiness,  that  it 
may  see  imaged  in  you  all  the  graces  of  lofty  virtue.  The 
pearl  which  reflects  the  colors  of  the  rainbow  also  has  the 
power  of  imparting  this  property  to  the  white  wax  which 
is  pressed  firmly  upon  it,  and  in  like  manner  has  the 
Christian  character  the  power  of  impressing  the  pliable 
nature  of  childhood  with  all  the  excellencies  for  which  it  is 
distinguished.  Those  who  are  the  constant  witnesses  of  our 
conduct  from  their  earliest  years,  are  insensibly,  but  so 
eflectually   assimilated    to    our   character,   that   in   all   that 


136  AT   THE    SEPULCHRES,    WE    MAY 

constitutes  the  life  of  the  child  the  parent  re-appears  before 
the  world.  This  transmission  of  character  extends  to  such  a 
dei^ree  that  the  manners,  the  bearings  and  intonations  of 
voice  in  the  offspring  are  readily  recognized  as  those  which 
were  known  in  the  parent.  Parents  of  immortals,  do  we  live 
as  immortals  ?  Are  our  affections,  our  thoughts,  and  our 
hopes  manifestly  tending  heavenward  and  circling  around 
the  Eternal  Throne  ?  0 !  how  necessary  it  is  to  make  those 
around  us  feel  what  we  profess  to  realize,  that  here  we 
have  no  continuing  city,  but  seek  one  to  come.  And  not 
only  has  the  Christian  parent  an  immense  work  to  do  in 
training  his  children  and  household  for  heaven,  but  the  work 
of  his  personal  salvation,  however  far  it  may  have  advanced, 
is  nev^r  complete  this  side  of  the  sepulchre.  "  The  path 
of  the  just  is  as  a  shining  light  which  shineth  more  and  more 
until  the  perfect  day."  High  as  he  may  have  ascended  on 
the  mount  of  excellence,  there  are  other  heights  to  be  scaled  ; 
and  the  command  is,  onward,  onward,  until  the  glory  of  the 
earthly  is  blended  with  the  glory  of  the  heavenly. 

There  is  a  work  for  all  to  do  in  the  vineyard  of  Christ. 
The  third  and  the  ninth  hour  may  already  be  passed,  and 
even  the  eleventh  hour  may  be  partly  spent,  while  the  cry  of 
the  master  is  still  heard,  "  Why  stand  ye  here  all  the  day 
idle  ?"  For  it  is  possible  that,  although  a  member  of  the 
church  and  a  regular  attendant  on  the  ministrations  of  the 
sanctuary,  and  contributing  to  the  wealth  and  respectability 
of  the  congregation,  a  man  may  not  have  added  any  thing  to 
the  moral  weight    and  spiritual  interests  of  the  flock  with 


LEARN  THE  VALUE  OF  LIFE.  137 

which  he  is  connected.  And  if  such  be  the  case,  he  has  not 
yet  dischai-o'ed  those  duties  which  rank  first  in  importance  in 
the  life  of  a  Christian.  Your  minister,  the  congregation,  and 
above  all  your  Saviour,  has  a  right  to  expect,  and  He  does 
demand,  such  a  consecration  of  your  being  to  His  service,  and 
such  a  standard  of  piety,  that  others  may  "  take  knowledge 
of  you  that  you  have  been  with  Jesus  and  learned  of  Him." 
Others  should  be  able  to  perceive  without  the  pains  of  a 
careful  observation,  that  you  are  thoroughly  identified  with 
the  cause  and  Author  of  Christianity.  There  should  be  such 
visible  fruits  of  an  operative  faith  as  to  leave  no  room  for  the 
shadow  of  a  doubt  as  to  your  personal  interest  in  the  great 
salvation.  A  branch  on  the  vine,  if  it  retains  a  healthy 
connection  with  the  parent  stem,  will  be  loaded  with 
delicious  fruit.  It  is  certainly  required  of  a  disciple  to 
establish  an  elevated  Christian  character,  that  he  may  in 
reality  be  "  as  a  city  set  on  a  hill,"  and  as  a  light  shining  in 
a  dark  world.  His  deportment  and  example  should  be  of 
such  a  pure  and  elevated  form  that  those  younger  in  years 
may  safely  copy  them.  He  should  be  a  pattern  of  virtue 
and  benevolence,  that  even  "  when  the  places  that  know  him 
now  shall  know  him  no  more  forever,"  he  may  fulfil  a 
mission  of  mercy  by  his  posthumous  influence ;  and  that, 
when  his  voice  no  longer  mingles  in  the  songs  of  the  earthly 
Zion,  and  others  occupy  the  place  now  filled  by  him,  he  may 
live  in  their  affections,  and  by  the  recollections  of  his 
devotion  to  the  service  of  God,  stimulate  them  to  labors  of 
charity  and  to  the  attainment  of  an  exalted  piety. 
1 2  * 


138  AT    THE    SEPULCHRES,   WE    MAY 

But,  as  a  member  of  the  social  state,  and  particularly  as 
the  head  of  a  household,  the  Christian  should  inquire 
whether  his  business  is  arranged  in  such  a  manner  as  would 
enable  him  to  go  to  his  reward  widiout  regret,  and  at  a 
moment's  warning.  "  Set  thy  house  in  order,  for  thou  shalt 
die  and  not  live,"  was  the  message  which  the  prophet  of  the 
Lord  brought  to  Hezekiah.  Set  thy  house  in  order,  we 
would  say  to  all  who  are  expectants  of  heaven.  Have  all 
things  in  a  proper  condition,  that  if  death  comes  at  a  period 
least  expected,  it  may  find  you  in  a  waiting  and  prepared 
attitude.  Very  painful  and  melancholy  consequences  are 
sometimes  witnessed  in  the  families  of  those  who  had  made 
no  provision  for  a  sudden  departure  from  this  world.  For 
scarcely  were  their  bodies  consigned  to  the  grave  before 
strife  and  litigation  commenced,  which  grew  in  violence 
until  the  tenderest  bonds  W'ere  ruptured,  and  a  whole  family 
thrown  into  anarchy,  and  hearts  once  joined  in  holy  love 
were  alienated  from  each  other,  and  never  after  met  but  in 
jarrings,  criminations,  and  recriminations.  So  that  even  the 
memory  of  a  father  was  not  pleasantly  cherished  ;  forasmuch 
as,  through  his  negligence  rightly  to  adjust  his  worldly  affairs, 
the  happiness  of  his  family  was  destroyed.  And  a  proper 
arrangement  every  year  of  that  business  which  so  many  defer 
to  the  final  hour,  will  by  no  means  hasten  your  end,  nor  will 
it  make  you  melancholy,  to  write  your  own  testament  while 
in  health.  And  not  only  is  it  the  most  fitting  time,  while 
in  the  vigor  of  health,  to  have  a  care  to  this  business,  but  it 
will  leave  you  calmer  and  your  mind  freer  from  care  in  that 


LEARN  THE  VALUE  OF  LIFE.  139 

solemn  hour  when  your  spirit  is  to  take  its  flight  to  the  bosom 
of  God  ;  —  an  hour  which  should  not  be  burdened  with  any- 
worldly  anxieties  or  business,  but  should  be  emphatically  an 
hour  to  die,  and  therefore  not  have  the  communion  of  the 
soul  with  God  disturbed  by  earthly  transactions.  For  what 
interest  can  we  then  feel  in  houses  and  lands,  and  large 
estates,  when  nothing  appears  momentous  or  great  but  those 
eternal  realities  which  come  thronging  around  the  mind,  and 
into  which  we  shall  then  enter.  O  !  my  God,  suffer  not  my 
last  hour  to  be  filled  with  the  cares  of  this  world,  nor  with 
the  adjustment  and  disposal  of  those  blessings  which  thou 
hast  bestowed!  Is  it  not  enough  that  such  a  large  proportion 
of  my  life  has  been  devoted  to  the  acquisition  of  wealth,  or 
other  creature  goods,  so  that  my  very  last  moments  must  be 
offered  at  some  other  shrine  than  Thine  ?  No !  I  will  so 
order  my  life,  and  so  command  and  shape  my  business,  that 
when  the  harbingers  of  death  commence  their  work  of 
demolition  upon  this  house  of  clay,  that  thou,  blessed  God, 
mayest  fill  that  hour  with  thy  gracious  presence ;  that  my 
soul  may  calmly  and  sweetly  sink  into  thee,  the  Parent  of 
my  being,  as  the  drop  loses  itself  in  the  ocean. 

Again  would  I  ask,  have  you  done  all  you  purpose  doing 
for  the  extension  of  Christ's  kingdom  in  the  earth  ?  Tf  not, 
then  what  you  design  doing,  do  with  thy  might.  What 
interest  do  you  feel  in  the  great  conflict  which  is  now  raging 
between  light  and  darkness?  Has  the  love  of  Christ  not 
only  restored  you  to  your  lost  dignity,  but  also  so  elevated 
your  conceptions  and  expanded  the  sympathies  of  your  soul 


140  AT    THE    SEPULCHRES,    WE    MAY 

that  they  rise  above  all  those  barriers  of  sectarianism,  and 
have  become  so  truly  Christian  and  catholic  as  to  gather 
within  their  embrace  the  whole  family  of  man  ?  Have  you 
attained  that  spiritual  exaltation  which  enables  you  to  look 
over  this  wide  world  where  this  conflict  is  now  progressing, 
that  wherever  you  see  the  sacramental  host  of  God  fighting 
the  battles  of  the  Lord,  under  whatever  banner,  so  that  you 
see  the  beaming  star  of  Bethlehem  and  the  stripes  of  Calvary 
upon  it,  you  can  pray  for  and  rejoice  in  their  success?  This 
may  all  be  true  of  you  ;  for  the  friends  of  Jesus  cannot  look 
with  indifference  on  the  present  state  of  the  world  ;  but  are 
not  purposes  maturing  in  your  mind  which  would,  if  con- 
summated, greatly  contribute  to  the  advancement  of  the 
Redeemer's  kingdom?  For  it  is  scarcely  presumable  that 
any  Christian  who  has  largely  shared  in  the  benefactions  of  a 
merciful  Providence,  has  not  also  determined  upon  an 
appropriation  of  at  least  a  considerable  amount  of  that  which 
he  has  been  permitted  to  acquire,  to  the  furtherance  and 
building  up  of  Christ's  empire  on  earth.  And  such  a 
recognition  of  the  divine  agency  in  his  prosperity,  and  such 
an  acknowledgment  of  the  goodness  of  that  unseen  hand 
which  has  placed  him  among  the  princes  and  nobles  of  the 
land,  would  assuredly  be  the  legitimate  offspring  of  a  heart 
renewed  by  the  Holy  Ghost  and  animated  with  a  Saviour's 
love.  That  there  is  great  need  for  such  offerings  must  be 
manifest  to  all  who  take  time  to  consider  the  organized  forces 
of  evil  which  are  every  where  arrayed  against  Christianity. 
Never  since  the  advent  of  the  Saviour  have  such  exertions 


LEARN   THE   VALUE    OF   LIFE.  141 

been  made,  and  such  instrumentalities  pressed  into  the 
service  of  the  kingdom  of  darkness  to  undermine  and 
subvert  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  The  enemies  of  the  cross 
are  besetting  us  on  all  sides,  and  are  carrying  on  their  war- 
fare openly  or  secretly,  as  they  may  judge  best  suited  to 
advance  their  cause.  See  you  not  what  innumerable  garbs 
they  have  assumed,  under  which  to  propagate  their  principles  ? 
Where  the  deformities  of  infidelity  would  shock  the  moral 
sense  of  a  community,  and  repel,  rather  than  attract  the 
multitude  to  its  standard,  the  enemy  is  clothed  in  the  guise 
of  science,  and  labors  to  bring  its  deductions  into  conflict 
with  the  revealed  word  of  God.  They  have  presumed  to 
lay  open  to  the  popular  gaze  the  immensity  of  the  universe, 
and  from  the  innumerable  systems,  and  the  magnitude  of  the 
frame-work  of  creation,  have  labored  to  prove  that  the 
infinite  Jehovah,  whose  dominions  are  boundless,  could  not 
have  any  solicitude  for  man,  who,  in  comparison  with  the 
orbs  which  peo})le  immensity,  is  less  than  an  atom  to  the  sun, 
and  therefore  beneath  the  notice  of  the  Supreme  Being.  And 
hence  they  would  infer  that  the  scheme  of  redemption  is  a 
fiction ;  forasmuch,  as  it  is  not  probable  that  He  who  is  the 
architect  of  this  stupendous  materialism  would  humble  him- 
self to  the  condition  of  man.  Forgetting,  or  designedly 
avoiding,  what  would  be  a  paradox  to  their  conclusions,  that 
God,  so  far  from  being  exclusively  occupied  with  his  larger 
creation,  has  given  us  as  many  and  even  more  wonderful 
illustrations  of  his  wisdom,  goodness,  and  care,  in  the  ani- 
mated world,  which  lies  as  far  beneath  man  as  man  lies 


142  AT    THE    SEPULCHRES,    WE    MAY 

beneath  the  dignity  of  angels.  For,  when  we  attentively 
examine  that  world  of  life  which  the  microscope  reveals  to 
the  eye,  and  see  that  all  are  provided  with  sustenance  suited 
to  their  nature,  and  supported  in  their  brief  existence  and 
made  happy  by  that  same  Almighty  Being  whose  energy 
controls,  and  whose  glory  shines  through  all  the  universe  ; 
and  when  we  further  consider  that  each  one  of  the  myriads 
of  insects  is  instinct  with  a  life  of  which  God  is  the  author 
and  jDreserver,  it  would  be  difficult  to  say  whether  God  "is 
greater  in  the  world  above  us,  or  in  the  world  beneath  us." 
And  until  the  advocates  of  infidelity  can  conclusively  demon- 
strate that  the  sustaining  power  and  preserving  mercy  of  God 
do  not  extend  to  all  things,  even  to  the  minutest  objects 
within  the  wide  limits  of  creation,  their  assertions  have  no 
basis  on  which  to  rest,  and  their  deductions  are  without  force, 
when  they  would  reason  out  of  existence  the  plan  of  redemp- 
tion on  the  ground  of  man's  insignificance,  in  comparison 
with  the  vastness  of  Jehovah's  empire.  It  is,  moreover,  in 
harmony  with  all  our  conceptions  of  the  infinite  mind,  that 
it  comprehends  within  its  notice  and  care,  the  least,  as  well 
as  the  greatest  object  within  the  limits  of  its  range.  They 
have  also  gone  down  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and 
attempted  to  bring  from  its  structure  such  proofs  as  should 
invalidate  the  records  of  creation  ;  so  that  philosophy,  litera- 
ture, philanthropy,  and  even  the  hallowed  name  of  religion, 
all  are  made  vehicles  for  the  dissemination  of  error  and  of 
vice.  No  difficulties,  however  formidable,  deter  them,  no 
labors,  bow-ever  arduous,  are  withheld  from  this  work  of  cor- 


LEAllN    THE    VALUE    OF   LIFE.  143 

ruption.  Brilliant  talents  arc  prostituted  to  this  cause,  and 
^vealth  is  freely  poured  out  at  the  shrines  of  infidelity  to 
further  its  unhallowed  objects.  They  press  it  into  all  the 
relations  of  life,  social,  political,  and  religious,  and,  like 
serpents,  stealthily  throw  their  immense  coils  around  the 
unsuspecting,  and  bind  the  souls  of  their  victims  with  im- 
mortal woes.  It  would  seem  incredible  to  those  who  are  not 
familiar  with  these  efforts,  upon  what  a  formidable  scale  the 
kingdom  of  darkness  is  organized  over  all  the  civilized  world. 
It  seems  as  though  the  bottomless  pit  was  billowing  up  its 
foulest  ingredients  from  its  deep  abysses,  and  pouring  them 
out  in  thousands  of  channels,  blighting  with  desolation  and 
death,  immortal  minds.  The  very  earth  groans  under  ini- 
quities !  All  the  infidel  works,  and  licentious  novels,  and  books 
professing  to  be  scientific,  are  translated  into  all  the  tongues 
spoken  by  man,  and  offered  gratuitously  to  those  who  will 
not  purchase.  I  ask  then,  in  view  of  these  facts,  can  a 
Christian,  identified  as  he  is  with  all  the  interests  of  the 
Redeemer's  cause,  be  indifferent  to  these  things .''  Not  if 
his  heart  is  right  with  God  —  not  if  he  loves  his  country,  and 
is  concerned  to  transmit  to  coming  posterity  the  blessings 
of  civil  and  religious  freedom  —  not  if  he  would  be  guiltless 
of  the  blood  of  souls  in  the  day  of  reckoning.  And  it  is 
gratifying  to  know  that  there  are  many  disciples  of  Christ  in 
the  various  departments  and  pursuits  of  human  life,  who  are 
ilive  to  their  responsibilities  to  God  and  mankind,  and  who 
have  not  only  sounded  the  alarm  from  the  senate  chamber, 
from  the  bench,  and  from  the  pulpit,  but  whose  intellectual 


144  AT    THE    SEPULCHRES,    WE    MAY 

and  moral  energies  are  consecrated  to  the  work  of  the  world's 
regeneration.  There  are  many  occupied  in  efforts  to  neutral- 
ize those  demoralizing  influences  which  are  flowing  through 
a  thousand  channels  upon  society,  and  to  turn  back  to  their 
fountain  those  streams  of  pollution  which  threaten  to  flood 
the  land.  Blessed  be  God,  that  among  our  statesmen  there 
are  those  \vho  cherish  the  Christian  religion,  and  who  regard 
virtue  and  intelligence  as  the  only  durable  pillars  of  our 
Republic.  Thanks  to  Him  who  disposes  the  hearts  of  men, 
that  He  has  linked  the  minds  of  our  most  prominent  citizens 
with  all  those  great  moral  enterprises  which  have  for  their 
object  the  elevation  and  salvation  of  man.  And  should  not 
every  disciple  of  the  Son  of  God  put  the  solemn  question  to 
his  conscience ;  have  I  done  all  that  is  required  of  me  to 
advance  the  conquests  of  the  cross  ?  Am  I  making  such  a 
disposition  of  my  talents,  my  influence,  and  my  wealth,  as 
will  be  approved  in  the  day  of  judgment?  Have  I  done  all 
that  I  design  doing  to  exalt  my  Saviour  in  the  earth,  and  to 
enlarge  his  dominion  among  men?  0!  my  soul,  it  was  a 
great  ransom  which  was  paid  for  thee  in  the  groans  and  the 
blood  of  Jesus  ;  and  is  it  not  fit  that  all  thy  faculties  should 
cheerfully  bend  to  the  work  of  saving  others  from  guilt  and 
ruin  ?  Ay,  is  it  not  the  highest  glory  and  value  of  life  to 
devote  it  to  that  cause  which  is  destined  to  recover  this  world 
from  the  dominion  of  sin,  and  fill  it  Vvith  the  knowledge  of 
God? 

It  is  perhaps  in  your  heart,  beloved  reader,  as  it  was  in  the 
heart  of  David,  to  manifest  your  love  to  God,  and  your  grati- 


LEARN   THE   VALUE    OF   LIFE.  145 

tiule  for  his  mercies,  by  building  him  a  temple  for  (he 
worship  of  His  name.  Or  you  have  purposed  to  endow 
some  institution,  and  to  enrich  the  Bible  and  the  Missionary 
Societies  of  our  land  with  your  legacies ;  or  you  intend  to 
relieve  the  congregation  to  which  you  belong  of  a  heavy 
pressure  which  cripples  its  prosperity  ?  Whatsoever  it  may 
be  that  you  design  doing,  *•  do  it  with  thy  might,"  and  do  it 
quickly.  In  one  of  our  large  cities  there  lived,  a  few  years 
ago,  a  gentleman  who  had  been  wonderfully  prospered  by 
Providence.  He  had  amassed  immense  wealth,  and  upon 
retiring  from  the  scenes  of  an  active  business  life  he  prayer- 
fully considered  what  disposition  he  should  make  of  his  gains. 
He  was  a  man  who  feared  God,  and  gratefully  acknowledged 
his  goodness  by  his  many  charities  to  the  poor  and  his 
frequent  contributions  to  benevolent  objects.  But  he  wisely 
inferred  from  his  own  history,  that  human  nature  needs 
discipline  if  it  is  to  unfold  in  high-toned  moral  character  ;  and 
while  he  intended  to  grant  a  liberal  provision  to  his  heirs,  he 
did  not  wish  to  make  them  indolent,  nor  assist  them  in 
becoming  degenerate  by  the  influence  of  too  much  wealth. 
He  accordingly  resolved  to  appropriate  a  considerable  portion 
to  various  benevolent  purposes.  The  Seamen's  Friend  Society 
%vas  to  receive  $5000  ;  a  fund  of  $10,000,  subject  to  the 
control  of  a  number  of  trustees,  to  be  named  in  his  will,  was 
to  assist  poor  mechanics  to  set  up  their  business.  An  orphan 
asylum  was  to  receive  the  interest  of  $5000 ;  the  Bible 
Society  was  put  down  for  $3000;  and  Home  and  Foreign 
Missions  each  $5000,  together  with  a  legacy  of  some  thou- 
13 


146  AT    THE    SEPULCHRES,    WE    MAY 

sands  to  the  congregation  of  which  he  was  a  member,  and 
with  which  he  had  long  and  pleasantly  worshipped.  But  as 
he  v;as  in  the  enjoyment  of  excellent  health,  and  not  far 
advanced  in  years,  there  seemed  to  be  no  pressing  necessity 
for  immediately  concluding  these  bequests  in  a  legal  manner. 
Besides  this,  his  wealth  was  increasing  every  day  at  a  rate 
which  would  justify  him,  in  a  few  years,  in  enlarging  the 
amounts  of  these  respective  legacies,  and  perhaps  including 
others  in  his  benefactions.  Months  elapsed,  until  almost  a 
year  had  expired  from  the  time  he  had  disclosed  his  purposes 
to  a  friend,  and  he  continued  in  his  usual  health,  and  was 
cheerful  and  happy.  One  Sabbath  morning  he  came  to  the 
sanctuary,  and  the  pastor,  with  a  view  to  improve  the  death 
of  a  youth  who  belonged  to  the  congregation,  but  who  had 
suddenly  perished  by  the  explosion  of  an  ill-fated  vessel, 
preached  from  the  text  —  "Boast  not  thyself  of  to-morrow, 
for  thou  knowest  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth."  The 
uncertainty  of  life  was  dwelt  upon  at  considerable  length,  and 
enforced  by  the  sudden  and  sad  bereavement  of  a  large  circle 
of  friends,  and  the  congregation  of  one  of  its  members. 
From  the  uncertainty  of  life  he  drew  several  impressive 
lessons  of  the  value  of  life.  And  the  loss  which  individuals, 
the  world,  and  the  soul  may  sustain  by  delaying  that  which 
persons  have  solemnly  determined  to  do,  was  forcibly  im- 
pressed upon  his  audience.  "  Many",  said  tlie  preacher, 
"intend  to  repent,  but  the  work  is  postponed  from  day  to  day 
for  a  more  convenient  season  ;  and  while  they  delay  sickness 
comes,   death  comes,  and  they  are  hurried   away  in  theii 


LEARN  THE  VALUE  OF  LIFE.  147 

iniquities.  Many  purpose  to  discharge  some  Christian 
duty  next  week,  or  to-morrow,  and  behold  death  comes 
between  them  and  the  day  fixed,  and  they  go  into  eternity 
without  accomphshing  that  which  they  meant  to  do  before 
leaving  this  world."  And  after  this  manner  he  still  further 
illustrated  the  value  of  life,  and  sho.wed  what  stupendous 
interests  frequently  crowd  themselves  into  an  hour.  As  this 
gentleman  was  returning  home  from  the  church,  he  was  silent 
and  thoughtful.  They  had  scarcely  entered  his  house  before 
he  remarked  to  a  friend,  "  That  was  an  impressive  sermon  we 
heard  to-day."  "  Remarkably  so,"  rej)lied  the  one  addressed, 
"and  I  hope  it  will  have  a  good  effect  upon  the  young." 
"And  why,"  said  the  other,  "  should  it  not  make  a  similar 
impression  upon  us  all }  Is  not  life  equally  if  not  more  un- 
certain to  those  of  us  more  advanced  in  years  ?  I,  for  my 
part,  have  deeply  felt  .the  truth  of  what  was  said,  and  some 
important  matters  upon  which  my  heart  is  fixed  shall  be  closed 
to-morrow.^''  After  some  further  remarks  the  conversation 
turned  upon  other  topics,  until  the  friends  separated.  Upon 
leaving,  the  gentleman  who  had  been  so  much  impressed  by 
the  discourse  said  to  his  friend,  "  Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to 
step  in  to-morrow  about  twelve  o'clock  and  assist  me  in 
making  some  business  arrangements?"  "  With  great  plea- 
sure," replied  the  other,  as  he  cordially  pressed  his  hand  and 
departed.  The  day  had  worn  away  and  the  family,  were 
assembled  to  engage  in  their  evening  devotions.  The  father 
took  his  accustomed  seat,  opened  the  Bible,  and  read  the 
nintieth  Psalm  :    "  Lord,  thou  hast  been  our  dwelling-place 


148  AT   THE    SEPULCIIllES,    WE    MAY 

in  all  generations.  Before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth, 
or  ever  thou  hadst  formed  the  earth  and  the  world,  even  froui 
everlasting  to  everlasting  thou  art  God.  Thou  turnest  man  to 
destruction,  and  sayest,  Return,  ye  children  of  men.  For  a 
thousand  years  in  thy  sight  are  but  as  yesterday  when  it  is 
passed,  and  as  a  watch  in  the  night.  Thou  carriest  them  away 
as  with  a  flood — they  are  as  a  sleep  in  the  morning;  they  are 
like  grass  which  groweth  up.  In  the  morning  it  flourisheth  and 
groweth  up,  in  the  evening  it  is  cut  down  and  witherelh.  For 
we  are  consumed  by  thine  anger,  and  by  thy  wrath  are  we  trou- 
bled. Thou  hast  set  our  iniquities  before  thee,  our  secret  sins 
in  the  light  of  thy  countenance.  For  all  our  days  are  passed 
av.-ay  in  thy  wrath :  we  spend  our  years  as  a  tale  that  is  told. 
The  days  of  our  years  are  three-score  years  and  ten  ;  and  if  by 
reason  of  strength  they  be  four-score  years,  yet  is  their  strength 
labor  and  sorrow  ;  for  it  is  soon  cut  ofT  and  we  fly  away. 
Who  knoweth  the  power  of  thine  anger  ?  even  according  to 
thy  fear  ;  so  is  thy  wrath.  So  teach  us  to  number  our  days, 
that  we  may  apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom.  Return,  O 
Lord,  how  long?  and  let  it  repent  thee  concerning  thy 
servants.  0  satisfy  us  early  with  thy  mercy  ;  that  we  may 
rejoice  and  be  glad  all  our  days.  Make  us  glad  ac- 
cording to  the  days  in  which  thou  hast  afflicted  us, 
and  the  years  wherein  we  have  seen  evil.  Let  thy  work 
appearr  unto  thy  servants,  and  thy  glory  unto  their  children. 
And  let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  be  upon  us  ;  and 
establish  thou  the  work  of  our  hands  upon  us,  yea  the  work 
of  our  hands  establish  thou  it." 


LEARN  THE  VALUE  OF  LIFE.  149 

They  kneeled  down,  and  the  solemn  discourse  of  the 
morning,  and  the  touching  and  beautiful  picture  of  human 
frailty  drawn  by  the  Psalmist,  had  such  an  influence  upon 
his  mind  as  caused  him  to  pray  with  unusual  fervor.  After 
warm  expressions  of  gratitude  for  life  and  all  its  blessings, 
and  imploring  the  divine  benediction  upon  his  word,  and 
-commending  himself  and  family  to  the  care  of  a  watchful 
Providence,  he  concluded  with  much  earnestness  and  empha- 
sis in  the  language  of  the  Psalm  ;  —  "  And  let  the  beauty  of 
the  Lord  our  God  be  upon  us ;  and  establish  thou  the  work 
of  our  hands,  yea  the  work  of  our  hands  establish  thou  it." 
It  was  the  last  prayer  he  ever  offered  at  the  family  altar. 
Having  retired  without  any  apparent  indisposition,  all  were 
soon  locked  in  slumbers  of  sweet  repose.  At  midnight  his 
wife  was  awakened  by  a  cold  pressure  upon  her  face :  it  was 
her  husband's  hand,  chilled  by  death.  The  next  morning  we 
read  the  following  announcement  in  a  paper :  "  Died  sud- 
denly, on  Sunday  night,  at  his  residence,  the  late . 

It  is  feared  that  the  unexpected  and  sudden  departure  of  this 
estimable  citizen  has  deprived  a  number  of  benevolent 
establishments  of  some  valuable  legacies  which  it  was  his 
intention  to  leave."  These  fears  were  sadly  realized,  as  we 
have  already  seen  that  the  time  upon  which  he  had  fixed  to 
give  his  intentions  a  legal  form  was  twelve  hours  later  than  his 
death.  What  a  solemn  illustration  does  this  incident  furnish 
of  the  value  of  life  !  Here  we  have  a  good  man  whose  heart 
was  fixed  for  years  on  doing  something  handsome  for  the 
cause  of  God,  and  just  on  the  eve  of  consummating  his  pur- 
13* 


150  AT    THE    SEPULCHEES,    WE    MAY 

poses  he  dies,  \Yithout  premonition  or  time  to  make  his 
bequests.  Who  can  estimate  the  loss  which  those  societies 
sustained,  and  those  persons  who  would  have  been  blest  with 
their  benevolence !  What  an  amount  of  misery  might  not 
these  charities  have  relieved !  What  blessings  might  have 
flown  from  them  to  the  wretched  and  benighted !  But  for 
this  delay,  (which  in  this  instance  seemed  without  danger), 
thousands  of  Bibles  would  have  gone  out  on  their  glorious 
mission  —  many  orphans  would  have  found  a  home  —  many 
comforts  would  have  been  provided  for  the  poor  seamen,  and 
thousands  of  immortal  spirits  now  sitting  in  the  region  and 
shadow  of  death  might  rejoice  in  the  light  of  Christianity, 
and  hereafter  mingle  in  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb. 
What  a  lesson  does  it  convey  to  the  living!  Let  not  death 
deprive  you  of  your  good  intentions,  while  you  have  the 
power  of  embodying  theni  in  good  deeds,  O,  how  valuable 
is  life!  and  how  much  remains  undone  forever  which  men 
intended  to  accomplish,  just  because  they  do  not  properly 
estimate  the  value,  the  shortness,  and  the  uncertainty  of  life ! 
And  in  nothing  is  the  evil  of  this  more  frequently  and  sensibly 
felt,  than  with  the  cause  of  the  Redeemer.  A  cause  which 
should  be  first,  but  for  which  our  benefactions  are  postponed 
to  the  closing  scenes  of  life,  and  therefore  in  many  instances 
lost  to  it  altogether.  Consult  such  records,  or  appeal  to  such 
testimony  as  will  unfold  the  purposes  of  the  departed,  and 
you  wall  find  many  painful  illustrations  of  this  truth.  There 
is  a  mother  who  designed  to  consecrate  her  child  to  God  in 
the  holy  ordinance  of  baptism,  but  the  duty  is  deferred  for 


LEARN  THE  VALUE  OF  LIFE.  151 

weeks  and  months,  and  she  takes  ill  and  dies,  and  that  child 
grows  up  without  having  placed  upon  it  the  seal  of  the  cove- 
nant, and  without  any  bond  of  union  with  the  visible  kingdom 
of  Jesus.  There  is  a  father  who  has  long  felt  it  his  duty,  and 
had  formed  the  resolution  to  speak  to  his  offspring  about  the 
interests  of  his  soul,  but  he  is  suddenly  cut  off  and  the  duty 
remains  undischarged.  There  is  a  neighbor  who  has  deter- 
mined to  use  his  personal  efforts  to  bring  another  into  the 
kingdom  of  Christ,  but  while  he  is  waiting  for  more  favorable 
opportunities,  one  or  the  other  is  called  to  his  account. 
There  was  not  lonir  since  a  vounof  man  who  had  felt  the 
operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  resolved  to  consecrate 
himself  to  the  service  of  God.  But  as  he  had  in  contempla- 
tion a  visit  to  some  friends  in  another  State,  he  concluded  to 
postpone  a  public  profession  of  religion  until  his  return — - 
"  It  will  only  be  a  month,"  he  said  ;  but  death  met  him  on 
the  way,  and  he  went  to  the  grave  before  the  period  had 
expired.  Alas,  this  delaying  —  what  purposes,  what  hopes 
are  doomed  to  perish  because  men  do  not  set  a  proper  value 
upon  the  present  hour !  Were  the  sepulchre  the  goal  of  our 
existence  as  it  is  of  the  present  life,  and  did  it  swallow  up 
and  consume  all  that  pertains  to  the  destiny  of  man,  so  that 
there  would  be  no  hereafter,  then  we  might  trifle  with  the 
golden  moments  that  flit  by  us  on  swift  wing ;  but  — 

"  Life  is  real,  life  is  earnest, 

And  the  grave  is  not  its  goal ; 

Dust  thou  art,  to  dust  returnest, 

Was  not  spoken  of  the  souL" 


152  AT   THE    SEPULCHRES,   WE    MAY   LEARN,    ETC. 

No,  that  soul  is  immortal,  and  as  there  is  an  eterna. 
future  before  us,  filled  with  raptures  or  woes,  it  becometh  all 
to  set  such  a  value  on  life  as  to  improve  it,  that  we  may 
be  fitted  for  the  exalted  destiny  of  the  redeemed,  and  unite 
our  present  vanishing  existence  with  the  blessed  realities  of 
Life  Eternal. 


CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 

THE  SEPULCHRE  PROCLAIMS  THE  EVIL  OE  SIN. 


"The  other  shape, — 
If  shape  it  might  be  call'd  —  that  shape  had  none, 
Distinguishable  in  member,  joint  or  limb  ; 
Or  suJastance  might  be  call'd  that  shadow  seem'd  ; 
For  each  seem'd  either;   black  it  stood  as  night, 
Fierce  as  ten  furies,  terrible  as  hell. 
And  shook  a  dreadful  dart;  what  seem'd  his  head, 
The  likeness  of  a  kingly  crown  had  on. 
Satan  was  now  at  hand ;  and  from  his  seat 
The  monster,  moving  onward,  came  as  fast 
"With  horrid  strides;  hell  trembled  as  he  strode." 


This  sublime,  but  terrible,  conception  of  sin  by  one  of  the 
world's  most  gifted  poets,  can  scarcely  be  contemplated  with- 
out feelings  of  horror.  Its  dreadful  shadow,  as  it  falls  upon 
our  path,  fills  the  heart  with  cold  sensations.  And  yet, 
ghastly  and  fear-inspiring  as  it  is,  its  truthfulness  is,  alas!  too 
painfully  illustrated  in  the  history  of  the  universe  and  in 
human  experience,  to  question  for  a  moment  the  propriety 
of  this  representation  of  that  malignant  principle  which  wars 
ao-ainst  the  great  interests  of  the  ssoul,  and  which  is  in  violent 
conflict  with  all  the  laws  of  Jehovah's  government.  For 
while  the  genius  of  Milton  was  confessedly  great,  and  his 

(153) 


154  THE    SEPULCHRE    PROCLAIMS 

imaginative  powers  of  such  a  magnificent  cast  that  all  his 
images  are  of  a  gorgeous  or  gigantic  character  ;  yet  no  one 
who  has  ever  allowed  his  mind  to  dwell  upon  the  manifold 
evils  of  sin,  which  appear  even  within  the  circle  of  his 
personal  observation,  will  venture  to  affirm  that  this  personi- 
fication of  it  is  overdrawn  or  too  darkly  shaded.  Its  effects 
are  as  painful  as  they  are  manifest.  They  are  so  wide-spread 
as  to  cover  the  earth  ;  so  deep  that  they  billow  up  in  hell ;  and 
so  penetrating  that  they  send  their  writhing  influence  through 
all  the  members  and  faculties  of  our  being.  The  illustrious 
author  quoted  seemed  conscious  of  his  inability  to  find  an 
object,  even  within  the  range  swept  by  his  imagination,  which 
would  fitly  represent  it,  or  give  a  full  and  life-like  portrait  of 
it ;  and,  therefore,  he  labors  to  combine  an  assemblage  of 
the  most  horrible  attributes,  gathered  from  the  dark  and 
shadowy  regions ;  and  even  then  are  the  outlines  of  the 
monster  so  dimly  sketched,  that  he  is  obscurely  seen  ;  while 
the  conviction  is  present  to  the  beholder  that  the  reality  is 
still  more  fearful  than  the  picture.  Alas !  what  mind,  though 
possessed  of  the  most  exalted  capacities,  could  feel  itself 
adequately  strong  and  properly  furnished  to  picture  the 
parent  of  such  a  progeny  as  that  with  which  sin  has  peopled 
our  world!  It  is  only  by  a  constant  variation  of  the  imagery, 
and  by  laying  under  tribute  all  the  objects  with  which  distress, 
pain,  wo,  and  death  are  associated,  that  we  learn  a  few  of 
the  many  evils  of  sin.  It  is  in  itself  an  unmixed  and 
unmitigated  evil,  and  tarnishes  the  glory  of  every  thing 
possessed  of  moral  excellence  with  which  it  comes  in  con- 


THE    EVIL    OF    SIN.  155 

tact.  It  is  a  disorganizing  element,  which  has  occasioned  a 
sad  breach  in  the  universe  of  God.  It  casts  indignity  upon 
all  the  natural  and  moral  perfections  of  the  inhnitely  glorious 
Sovereign.  It  is  at  war  with  His  holiness,  justice  and  mercy; 
and  breathes  defiance  against  His  omnipotence.  It  dishonors 
God  in  all  his  relations.  As  Creator  it  denies  and  comes  in 
conflict  with  His  right  to  the  creatures  whom  He  formed. 
As  Legislator  it  rebels  against  His  laws,  and  pours  contempt 
upon  their  authority.  And  as  the  Father  and  Benefactor  of 
the  human  family,  sin  has  rendered  His  rightful  subjects  un- 
grateful, and  implanted  in  their  bosoms  enmity  instead  of 
filial  affection.  It  has  introduced  an  element  of  disorder  into 
the  Divine  government,  and  marred  the  glory  of  the  universe. 
We  behold  its  evil  in  the  fall  of  "  those  angels  who  kept  not 
their  first  estate,  but  left  their  own  habitation,  and  who  are 
reserved  in  everlasting  chains  underdarkness  unto  the  judg- 
ment of  the  great  day."  What  amazing  ruin  —  what  fearful 
desolation  would  appal  the  mind,  could  it  glance  over  that 
world  where  those  dwell  — 

"  Whom  the  Almighty  power 
Hurled  headlong  flaming  from  the  ethereal  sky, 
With  hideous  ruin  and  combustion,  down 
To  bottomless  perdition;  there  to  dwell 
In  adamantine  chains  and  penal  fires." 

The  ruins  of  a  city  constitute  a  mournful  spectacle.  To 
behold  its  noble  palaces,  its  gorgeous  temples,  and  its 
magnificent  towers  all  turned  into  a  mass  of  destruction,  is  a 
sight  from  the  contemplation  of  which  we  turn  with  sorrow. 
For  painful,  indeed,  is  it  to  see  that  site,  where  stood  ia 


156  THE    SEPULCHRE    PROCLAIMS 

lordly  pride  the  finest  specimens  of  architectural  skill, 
covered  with  broken  columns,  partially-consumed  gates, 
fragments  of  holy  altars,  and  an  air  of  desolation  overspread- 
ing that  scene  of  yesterday's  gaiety ; — a  desolation  deepened 
by  the  low  moans  of  the  dying  storm  which  kindled  the  con- 
flaofration,  and  the  wail  of  the  homeless  and  friendless,  who 
linger  with  sad  hearts  around  the  smouldering  pile  which 
buried  their  all,  and  the  mournful  cooings  of  the  mateless 
dove,  whose  brood  and  companion  perished  in  the  general 
wreck.  It  is  a  melancholy  employment  to  contemplate  the 
once  beautiful  land  where  shepherds  guided  their  flocks  by 
living  streams,  and  where  peace  and  beauty  reigned,  and  an 
abundance  of  good  filled  all  its  borders,  but  which  is  now 
swept,  and  desolated,  and  scorched  by  the  fire  and  sword  of 
the  ruthless  destroyer.  But  no  disasters,  however  terrible, 
and  no  calamities,  however  dark  and  withering,  that  have 
ever  befallen  kingdoms,  or  left  their  impress  upon  the  fairer 
portions  of  this  earth,  can  equal  that  work  which  sin  wrought 
on  the  fields  of  celestial  light.  And,  however  distressing  it 
misfht  be  to  witness  the  desolations  which  mark  the  track  of 
the  furious  hurricane,  or  the  path  of  a  brutal  and  wasting 
army  ;  it  is  far  more  aflfecting  and  painful  to  contemplate 
angelic  minds  in  ruins  —  to  behold  those  mighty  intellects, 
once  sw^eeping  in  their  range  of  thought  over  the  wonders  of 
the  universe,  and  admiring  the  unveiled  mysteries  of  Jehovah, 
now  laboring  with  eternal  woes;  and  those  immense  capaci- 
ties which  then  overflowed  with  heaven's  high  raptures,  now 
flaming  with  the  wrath  of  God.     Alas!  what  a  change  from 


THE    EVIL    OF    SIN.  157 

glory  to  shame  ;  from  light  to  darkness ;  from  the  music  of 
harps  to  that  of  chains  ;  and  from  exalted  themes  of  praise 
to  piteous  groans  of  anguish !  And  yet  such  are  the  effects 
which  sin  wrought  upon  those  who  once  moved  in  cloudless 
splendor  around  the  eternal  throne,  and  mingled  their  notes 
whh  the  hymns  of  Cherubim  and  Seraphim. 

But  it  is  not  our  province  so  much  to  meditate  upon  the 
condhion  of  fallen  angels  and  upon  the  terrors  of  perdition, 
as  to  look  from  the  sepulchre  over  the  broad  earth,  and  set 
forth  the  evils  which  sin  has  produced,  and  is  still  producing,  in 
the  human  flimily.  No  sane  person  has  ever  yet  attempted  to 
deny  the  vicious  and  corrupt  state  of  man.  Voltaire,  the 
great  enemy  of  all  good,  and  particularly  of  Christianity, 
says  in  Questions  sitr  VEncy  dope  die  :  "  The  fall  of  degener- 
ate man  is  the  foundation  of  the  theology  of  all  the  ancient 
nations."  And  the  most  distinguished  sages  of  antiquity 
have  uniformly  recognized  the  fact  of  human  depravity.  In 
all  the  systems  of  religion  which  have  been  promulgated  in 
this  world,  the  corruption  of  the  race  in  its  original  head  has 
been  more  or  less  clearly  set  forth  and  acknowledged. 
Socrates  and  Plato,  Pliny  and  Cicero,  and  many  others  of  the 
illustrious  of  the  distant  past,  have  left  traces  in  their  writings 
of  their  belief  in  the  fall  of  man.  And  that  which  lias  been 
in  all  ages  painfully  felt  and  dimly  shadowed  forth  by  those 
who  were  dependent  for  their  knowledge  on  the  deductions 
of  reason,  has  been  clearly  revealed  in  the  Bible  In  that 
brief  record  in  Genesis  of  man's  first  disobedience,  we  have 
a  true  representation  of  the  origin  of  our  corruption.  That 
14 


158  THE    SEPULCHRE    PROCLAIMS 

history  needs  no  vindication  ;  for  the  narrative  itself  is,  in  the 
judgment  of  every  impartial  and  judicious  critic,  its  best 
defence.  It  wears  neither  the  air  of  romance  nor  the  studied 
guise  of  imposture.  It  is  characterized  by  great  simplicity  ; 
yet  clothed  with  such  a  sublime  dignity  that  the  statement  of 
Moses  constitutes  a  monument  of  truth,  around  which  the 
voluntary  testimony  of  all  ages  has  been  poured  to  corrobo- 
rate its  declarations.  For  not  only  has  humanity  always  felt 
that  it  was  cut  loose  from  tlfe  source  of  its  existence,  but  it 
has  been  impelled  by  the  force  of  internal  wretchedness 
and  desolation  to  make  such  efforts  as  its  feeble  resources 
would  warrant,  to  restore  its  union  with  that  invisible  Power 
of  life  from  which  it  was  divorced,  and  through  which  alone 
man  could  be  exalted  to  that  state  of  happiness  for  which  the 
soul  v.as  originally  designed,  and  for  which  it  incessantly 
yearned.  And  hence,  all  the  mythologies  of  Egypt,  of 
India,  of  Greece  —  yea,  of  all  the  Pagan  nations,  professed 
to  furnish  the  means,  and  point  out  the  way,  in  which  the  lost 
good  might  be  recovered.  And  it  could  not  be  otherwise  ; 
for  the  fact  that  a  great  change  had  taken  place  in  the  condi- 
tion of  the  race  was  indisputable;  forasmuch  as  all  men  were 
conscious  of  those  remains  in  their  immortal  natures  which, 
like  the  broken  columns  of  a  palace,  are  witnesses  of  former 
greatness  and  grandeur  now  manifestly  gone  ;  and  this  con- 
viction, in  connection  with  the  existence  of  an  evil  universal 
in  its  ravages  and  disorders,  would  necessarily  everywhere 
betyet  desires  that  would  mature  into  efforts  for  freedom 
from  the  dire  calamities  which  rested  upon  mankind,  and  the 


THE   EVIL   OF   SIN.  159 

recovery  of  the  lost  glory  which  clothed  the  inhabitants  of 
Eden.  Even  now  a  voice  cries  out  of  the  ruins  of  our 
nature,  which,  like  unto  that  which  seems  to  issue  from  the 
mouldering  and  wasting  frame  in  the  sepulchre,  speaks  to  us 
of  perished  strength  and  faded  excellence.  Call  it  what  you 
will,  intuition  or  tradition,  the  prevailing  sentiment  of  the 
human  family  has  ever  been,  and  is  still,  that  man  came  spot- 
less and  perfect  from  the  hands  of  his  Maker.  And  this  con- 
viction harmonizes  most  beautifully  with  the  utterances  of  the 
inspired  volume  ;  for  it  declares  that  "  man  was  created  in 
the  image  of  God."  While  he  remained  sinless  he  retained 
the  Divine  image,  and  stood  in  unison  with  the  infinite  foun- 
tain of  life.  When  he  sinned,  that  connection  was  broken, 
that  union  dissolved  ;  and  his  glory  departed  ;  for  the  cause 
which  ruptured  the  bond  of  his  alliance  with  heaven  at  the 
same  time  struck  him  with  death.  From  an  immortal  he 
became  a  mortal;  and  from  absolute  holiness  he  passed  into 
thorough  depravity.  And  while  his  body  was  doomed  to 
decay  and  destined  to  moulder  back  to  the  dust  out  of  which 
it  was  formed,  his  intellectual  and  moral  natures  experienced 
the  blighting  and  stunning  effects  of  sin  in  all  their  faculties. 
It  threw  fetters  upon  the  reasoning  powers,  so  that  their  labor 
is  arduous  and  difficult,  while  their  deductions  are  often 
circuitous  and  doubtful.  It  perverted  the  judgment,  so  that 
its  decisions  are  not  made  with  absolute  precision,  but  are 
frequently  found  to  be  fallacious.  It  warped  and  darkened 
the  will,  so  that  it  chooses  evil  rather  than  good.  It  crippled 
the  imagination,  so  that  its  flights  are  less  adventurous,  and 


160  THE    SEPULCHRE    PROCLAIMS 

its  ofTspnng  less  glowing.  It  cloiuied  and  enfeebled  con- 
science, so  that,  like  an  impotent  and  chained  monarch  still 
seated  on  the  throne,  its  voice  was  no  longer  potent  to  com- 
mand submission  to  its  authority  within  the  empire  over 
which  it  reigned  ;  and,  therefore,  the  once  beautiful  and 
upright  being  who  stood  at  the  head  of  creation,  panoplied 
with  the  vestiture  of  sinless  glory,  was  stripped  of  moral 
excellence. 

But  the  results  of  his  transgression  did  not  terminate  in 
man ;  for,  as  he  was  the  living  and  connecting  link  between 
God  and  this  earth,  thus,  by  the  rupture  of  that  mysterious 
chain  which  united  him  to  the  infinitely  glorious  Maker  of  all 
things,  not  only  he,  but  everything  which  occupied  an  inferior 
position  in  the  scale  of  creation,  was  cut  off  from  its 
appropriate  source  of  life.  For  not  only  was  all  the  posterity 
of  Adam  struck  with  death  in  him,  but  all  creatures,  and  all 
material  things,  felt  the  withering  influence  of  the  curse. 
Sin  is  the  transgression  of  the  law ;  and  when  the  progenitor 
of  our  race  broke  the  law  of  Paradise,  sin  entered  and  passed 
upon  all.  The  fountain  of  blessing  for  this  world  was  then 
poisoned  to  its  profoundest  sources,  and  had  thrown  into  its 
depths  such  a  lasting  venom,  that,  ever  since,  its  streams  are 
like  unto  the  waters  of  Marah,  bitter  and  intolerable  ;  and  so 
they  must  remain  until  they  have  imparted  to  them,  not  the 
virtue  of  that  tree  from  which  God  directed  Moses  to  cut 
branches  to  sweeten  the  bitter  well  in  the  desert,  but  until 
they  are  impregnated  by  the  virtue  of  Him  who  hung  upon 
the  tree  of  Calvary.     The  influence  of  sin  is  as  comprehen- 


THE    EVIL    OF    SIN.  .        161 

sive  as  the  earth,  and  so  crushing  and  agonizing  in  its  weight, 
that  "  the  whole  creation  groaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain 
together  until  now.  And  not  only  they^  but  ourselves  also, 
which  have  the  first  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  even  we  ourselves 
groan  within  ourselves,  waiting  for  the  adoption,  to  wit,  the 
redemption  of  our  body."  The  apostle  represents  this  whole 
creation,  man  and  all  that  lies  beneath  him,  as  under  an 
oppressive  burden,  laboring  under  a  painful  pressure,  and 
yearning  for  deliverance  from  their  bondage.  The  curse 
of  God  fell,  therefore,  upon  the  offender,  and  all  things  allied 
to  him  ;  and  its  paralyzing  power  became  as  diffusive  and 
pervasive  as  the  subtle  electric  fluid,  and  passed  through  the 
entire  realm  that  was  placed  under  the  dominion  of  the  lord 
of  Eden.  So  that,  while  the  laws  of  our  physical,  intellectual, 
and  moral  organizations  are  known  to  be  seriously  aflected 
by  it,  material  nature  and  animals  have  in  like  manner 
suffered  from  the  shock  to  such  an  extent,  that  they,  with  us, 
still  groan  in  anguish.  Sin  is  that  jarring  element  which 
often  gives  a  fitful  motion  to  the  wheels  of  nature,  and  which 
hns  throv,'n  her  into  such  deep  distress,  that  the  woes  with 
which  her  heart  is  laboring  are  expressed  in  the  wild  howl  of 
the  tempest  and  the  thunderings  of  the  earthquake.  "  Cursed 
be  the  ground  for  thy  sake,"  said  the  Lord  to  Adam,  "  in 
sorrow  shalt  thou  eat  of  it  all  the  days  of  thy  life :  thorns 
also  and  thistles  shall  it  bring  forth  to  thee  ;  and  thou  shalt  eat 
the  herb  of  the  field.  In  the  sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat 
bread,  till  thou  return  unto  the  ground ;  for  out  of  it  wast 
thou  taken ;  for  dust  thou  art,  and  unto  dust  shalt  thou 
14* 


162  THE    SEPULCHRE    PROCLAIMS 

return."  This  narrative  of  that  solemn  interview  of  God  with 
man  as  a  sinner,  clearly  affirms,  that  the  earth  participated  in 
the  woes  of  the  curse  ;  and  it  is  equally  just  to  infer,  and  it 
can  be  as  successfully  established,  that  the  inferior  animated 
creation  lies  under  the  same  penalty.  There  is  not  the 
shadow  of  a  doubt,  that  order,  peace,  and  harmony 
reigned  through  the  unblighted  creation  during  the  innocency 
of  man.  Enmity,  strife,  war,  cruelty,  and  death  were  not 
known,  for  no  malignant  impulse  was  yet  implanted  in  any 
creature.  An  air  of  peace  and  quiet,  as  beautiful  as  that 
which  reigns  in  the  holy  depths  of  the  midnight  heaA'ens 
above  us,  pervaded  all  things.  No  foul  thought,  no  murder- 
ous intent,  no  sinful  passion  throbbed  within  the  circle  of  the 
then  glorious  and  sinless  creation.  The  lion  and  the  lamb, 
the  wolf  and  the  kid  then  roamed  over  the  fields  together, 
fed  upon  the  same  pastures  and  drank  at  the  same  brooks 
with  as  much  harmony  as  the  stars  walk  and  shine  together 
in  the  firmament  above.  Even  the  serpent,  which  now  so 
universally  inspires  dread,  was  then  neither  an  object  of 
abhorrence  nor  fear ;  forasmuch,  as  Satan  accomplished  his 
ruinous  purpose  by  assuming  the  form  of  one  of  these 
creatures.  But  the  effects  of  the  fall  were  immediate  and 
disastrous  to  the  harmony  and  glory  of  Paradise.  Those 
creatures  that  had  yielded  a  cheerful  submission  to  their  con- 
stituted lord  then  became  as  rebellious  as  himself.  The 
animals  lost  their  peaceable  dispositions  and  inherited  fierce 
natures,  so  as  to  make  them  the  enemies  of  man  and  hostile  and 
destructive  to  each  other.    Milton's  conception  of  the  sudden 


THE   EVIL   OF   SIN.  163 

and  sad  effects  of  eating  the  forbidden  fruit,  may  therefore  be 
regarded  as  strictly  true. 

"  Forth  reaching  to  the  fruit,  she  pluck'd,  she  eat; 
Earth  felt  the  wound,  and  nature  from  her  seat, 
Sighing  through  all  her  works,  gave  signs  of  wo. 
That  all  was  lost." 

"All  things,"  says  Dr.  Chalmers,  "were  made  subject  to 
vanity,  i.  e.  perishableness  through  the  transgression  of  our 
first  parents,  at  whose  fall  a  universal  blight  came  upon 
nature,  and  she  has  now  become  a  wreck  of  what  she  was — 
still  lovely  in  many  of  her  aspects,  though  in  sore  distress  — 
still  majestic  and  venerable,  though  a  venerable  ruin  appear- 
ing as  if  out  of  joint,  and  giving  token  by  her  extended 
deserts,  and  her  wintry  frown,  and  her  many  fierce  and  fitful 
agitations,  that  some  mysterious  ailment  hath  befallen  her." 
And  it  must  be  manifest  to  every  careful  reader  that  such 
was  Paul's  conception  of  the  wide-spread  and  agonizing 
effects  of  sin,  when  he  penned  the  eighth  chapter  of  his 
epistle  to  the  Romans.  As  all  things  participated  in  the 
blessings  which  crowned  the  innocency  of  man,  and  the 
smiles  of  God  gladdened  the  whole  earth,  so  does  the  Apostle 
include  the  entire  work  in  the  range  of  his  vision,  when  he 
says,  "  the  whole  creation  groaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain 
together  until  now,"  and  yearneth  for  deliverance.  Based 
upon  this  fact,  are  his  subsequent  deductions  of  the  future 
glorification,  not  only  of  the  children  of  God,  but  of  nature 
herself.  It  is  not  an  arduous  task  to  establish  the  unhappy 
and  restless  state  of  the  human  race  :  for  evidences  of  this 


164  THE    SEPULCHRE    PROCLAIMS 

truth  are  every  where  visible  in  the  great  variety  of 
methods  adopted  by  them,  through  which  they  hope  to 
effect  their  deliverance  from  the  painful  pressure  of  those 
woes,  of  which  they  are  conscious  ;  but  it  may  not  be  so  easy 
to  perceive  this  same  struggling  for  life  and  deliverance  from 
bondage  in  the  animal  and  material  creation.  And  yet,  in 
the  absence  of  that  power  needed  to  give  intelligent  expres- 
sions of  what  may  be  felt  by  them,  there  are,  notwithstand- 
ing, such  manifest  indications  of  distress  in  all  things  around 
us,  that  the  attentive  observer  needs  no  higher  demonstration 
of  the  truth  that  they  are  laboring  for  enlargement  and  free- 
dom. The  eminent  divine,  Olshausen,  says,  "  The  transition 
of  the  curse  from  the  conscious  creature  to  the  unconscious 
is  no  arbitrary  one,  but  one  of  internal  necessity.  Accord- 
ingly as  the  fall  even  of  the  creature  commenced  with  man, 
so  does  the  restoration  of  that  creature  begin  also  with  him. 
The  notion  of  being  subjected  to  vanity  presupposes  how- 
ever naturally  a  germ  of  better  life,  which,  bound  only  by  an 
alien  power,  is  held  in  bondage.  But  the  existence  of  this 
germ  of  a  nobler  life  in  every  creature  forms  the  fount  of  its 
yearning  for  redemption."  This  same  thought  is  very 
beautifully  expressed  in  the  subjoined  language  of  Schubert. 
''Even  in  the  things  of  the  world  of  bodies  which  surrounds 
us,  there  is  an  element  of  life,  a  yearning  of  what  is  bound, 
which,  like  that  Memnon  statue,  unconsciously  makes 
symphony  when  the  ray  touches  it  from  above."  Goethe,  in 
one  of  his  epistles,  utters  a  similar  sentiment  —  "When  I 
stand  all  alone  at  night  in  open  nature,  I  feel  as  though  it  were 


THE   EVIL   OF   SIN.  165 

a  spirit  and  begged  redemption  of  me.  Often  have  I  had  the 
sensation  as  if  nature,  in  wailing  sadness,  entreated  something 
of  me,  so  that,  not  to  understand  what  she  longed  for  cut 
through  my  very  heart." 

Such  feelings  are  not  peculiar  to  some,  but  common  to  all 
contemplative  minds,  whose  meditations  rise  in  sublimity  as 
they  are  assisted  by  those  silent,  but  eloquent,  utterances 
from  the  awful  shrines  of  nature.  For  there  is  a  living  bond 
of  sympathy  which  connects  us  with  the  outer  world  ;  so 
that,  while  we  sigh  over  the  dying  brute,  and  feel  a  pang  or 
drop  a  tear  over  the  withering  flower,  our  souls  throw  open 
their  inmost  sanctuary  to  welcome  those  images  of  beauty 
and  lessons  of  instruction  which  come  thronging,  like  bright 
spirits  from  the  gorgeous  materialism  which  surrounds  us,  to 
seek  a  home  within  us.  And,  as  the  unseen  power  of  life  in 
the  leafless  tree,  or  within  the  hard  coating  of  the  seed  in 
which  it  is  enveloped,  bends  all  its  energies  to  manifest  itself 
in  the  blossom  and  the  fruit,  so  is  there  a  struggling  in  this 
blighted  creation  towards  that  glorification  which  enters  so 
largely  into  the  predictions  of  those  holy  Seers  who  have 
described  the  promised  "  new  heavens  and  the  new  earth." 
This  idea  runs  through  the  whole  Scriptures  ;  and  the  promise 
of  its  realization  at  some  future  day  lies  in  the  anguish  which 
now  agitates  all  things.  That  period  is  invested  with  a 
ravishing  beauty;  and  the  effects  of  that  renovation  are 
graphically  described  by  the  glowing  pen  of  Isaiah.  "The 
wilderness  and  the  solitary  place  shall  be  made  glad,  and  the 
desert   shall   rejoice    and   blossom    as   the    rose.       It   shall 


166  THE    SEPULCHRE    PROCLAIMS 

blossom  abundantly,  and  rejoice  even  with  joy  and  singing ; 
the  glory  of  Lebanon  shall  be  given  unto  it,  the  excellency 
of  Carmel  and  Sharon  ;  they  shall  see  the  glory  of  the  Lord, 
and  the  excellency  of  our  God."  Pointing  to  that  day  when 
this  alienated  world  shall  have  been  recovered  to  its  rightful 
Sovereign,  and  Jesus  Christ  shall  have  lifted  off  from  this 
earth  the  curse  which  now  lies  upon  it,  he  exclaims:  "  The 
wolf  also  shall  dwell  with  the  lamb,  and  the  leopard  shall  lie 
down  with  the  kid ;  and  the  calf'  and  the  young  lion,  and 
the  fatling  together,  and  a  little  child  shall  lead  them.  The 
COW'  and  the  bear  shall  feed  together,  and  their  young  ones 
shall  lie  down  together ;  and  the  lion  shall  eat  straw  like  an 
ox.  And  the  sucking  child  shall  play  on  the  hole  of  the 
asp,  and  the  weaned  child  upon  the  cockatrice's  den.  They 
shall  not  hurt  nor  destroy  in  all  my  holy  mountain,  saith  the 
Lord."  This  same  prophet,  in  the  thirtieth  chapter,  speaks 
yet  further  of  the  escape  from  present  bondage  and  the  glori- 
fication of  nature  in  language  as  lofty  as  it  is  beautiful. 
"  Moreover  the  light  of  the  moon  shall  be  as  the  light  of  the 
sun,  and  the  light  of  the  sun  sevenfold  as  the  light  of  seven 
days,  in  the  day  that  the  Lord  shall  bind  up  the  breach  of 
his  people,  and  heal  the  stroke  of  their  wound."  And  in 
another  prophecy  it  is  announced  :  "  And  the  waters  of  the 
Dead  Sea  shall  be  healed  by  the  waters  which  shall  flow  out 
of  the  temple  ;  and  by  the  stream  of  this  water  shall  grow- 
all  manner  of  trees,  whose  leaf  shall  not  wither,  and  whose 
fruit  shall  not  decay;  they  shall  yield  their  fruit  monthly,  and 
the  leaves  thereof  shall  be  for  the  healino:  of  the  heathen." 


THE   EVIL   OF    SIN.  167 

And  again  we  have  ttis  pvirpose  uttered  from  the  holy 
oracles,  "Behold  I  create  all  tilings  new."  And  then  is 
described  to  us  the  New  Jerusalem,  clothed  in  its  inef- 
fable splendor.  It  would  seem,  then,  that  all  things  animate 
and  inanimate  feel  within  them  the  stirrings  of  a  new  life, 
and  shall  gather  upon  them  of  the  grandeurs  of  Calvary ;  and 
thus  transformed,  constitute  a  mirror  to  reflect  the  glory  of 
God  and  the  Lamb,  as  also  the  splendor  of  the  glorified 
saints.  Such  is  the  picture  drawn  by  the  pencil  of  inspira- 
tion, of  the  recovered  happiness  and  glory  of  that  vast 
creation  which  now  groans  and  travails  with  us  under  the 
curse. 

And  if  we  turn  from  these  objects,  which  we  have  had 
under  consideration  to  ourselves,  and  to  those  in  a  similar 
condition,  and  of  a  like  destiny,  we  find  the  most  conclusive, 
because  consciously  painful  proofs  of  the  evil  of  sin.  For, 
on  every  part  of  our  marvellous  organization  do  we  see  the 
impress  of  a  dark  calamity  which  has  been  entailed  upon  us ; 
and  on  all  our  faculties  are  fetters  which  sin  has  forged  and 
bound  upon  them,  while  all  our  nerves  and  fibres  quiver 
and  tremble  with  notes  of  anguish.  Look  where  you 
will,  in  civilized  or  savage  life,  to  the  highly  cultivated 
or  the  most  untutored,  in  the  most  refined  circles,  as  also 
in  the  lowest  grades  of  human  life,  and  you  will  find 
man  conscious  of  his  imperfect  and  unhappy  condition, 
laborinfr  for  a  better  state,  for  a  hio^her  bliss  and  a  firmer 
peace  than  this  world  can  give  him.  He  is  annoyed  with  a 
restlessness  which   admits  of  no  quiet ;    oppressed  with  a 


1G8  THE    SEPULCHRE    PROCLAIMS 

burden  which  no  arm  of  flesh  can  re/nove,  and  haunted  by  a 
sense  of  spiritual  wretchedness  which  neither  the  anxieties 
and  pressures  of  a  busy  occupation,  nor  yet  the  excitements 
of  company,  nor  the  whirling  fascinations  of  pleasure,  can 
alleviate  or  displace.  Deeply  within  the  soul  are  stirring 
those  insatiate  desires  and  longinofs  which  are  as  deathless  as 
the  undying  soul,  and,  like  prisoners  in  chains  maddened 
by  their  confinement,  are  ever  beating  the  walls  of  their 
dungeon,  that  if  possible  they  may  effect  a  breach  which  will 
give  them  an  exit  into  that  immensity  where  alone  they  can 
range  with  their  wonted  sweep,  and  be  satiated  with  their 
only  aliment,  the  "  fulness  "  of  their  infinite  and  glorious 
Author.  All,  all  are  under  the  curse  —  all  over  this  wide 
earth  come  up  groans  and  sighs  from  an  exiled  race,  pining 
away  in  a  bondage  from  which  they  cannot  disenthral  them- 
selves. And  this  condition  is  not  peculiar  to  the  humble  or 
the  exalted,  to  the  ignorant  or  the  learned,  but  is  common  to 
all  in  whom  burns  an  immortal,  but  fallen  spirit.  Mere 
intellectual  attainments,  external  charities,  or  the  rewards  of 
philanthropy,  can  never  answer  as  a  substitute  for  that  moral 
purity  and  goodness,  destitute  of  which,  the  soul  enjoys  no 
pleasure.  For  even  the  inheritor  of  the  most  brilliant  talents, 
and  the  possessor  of  the  priceless  wealth  and  glowing  gems 
of  a  world's  literature,  after  he  has  wandered  over  the  ample 
fields  of  learning  and  culled  its  choicest  flowers,  and  his  eye 
has  ranged  over  the  wide  domain  of  science,  is  still  con- 
scious of  an  "inward  void,"  and  needs  a  soul-filling 
object.     Such  has  been  the  experience  of  man,  and  such  the 


THE    EVIL    OF    SIN.  1G9 

tendencies  and  outcries  of  our  fallen  luunanity  in  all  ages  of 
the  world.  They  have  appeared  under  various  forms,  in 
which,  however,  the  hope  of  a  future  deliverance  shone  more 
or  less  clearly.  Such  were  the  dreams  of  Plato,  ^nd  such  the 
expectations  of  that  golden  age  which  loomed  out  before  the 
vision  of  the  ancients  while  they  were  encompassed  w-ith 
moral  darkness.  And  to  the  same  origin  (that  of  internal 
wretchedness)  may  be  traced  all  those  modern  projects  and 
schemes  which  promise  perfectibility  to  the  race,  or  eman- 
cipation from  all  the  miseries  of  their  bondage,  apart  from 
and  independently  of  the  influences  of  the  gospel.  O  !  that 
those  who  are  pursuing  these  phantoms,  and  striving  to  still 
those  inward  yearnings  by  kneeling  at  an  earthly  shrine, 
would  turn  to  the  Holy  Word,  which  offers  a  balm  for 
the  bleeding  heart,  a  blessing  for  every  felt  want,  and 
which  kindles  in  the  soul  of  the  penitent  a  hope  that  forms 
a  channel  through  which  the  blessed  realities  of  eternity  flow, 
fresh  and  full,  from  the  throne  of  God,  filling  all  his  immortal 
capacities  unutterably  full  of  glory.  For  the  hope  of  the 
believer  is  made  up  of  the  elements  of  future  blessedness 
which  are  inwardly  present  to  him. 

Such  is  the  extent  and  severity  of  the  curse,  that  even 
Christians  who  rejoice  in  a  conscious  deliverance  from  the 
guilt  and  dominion  of  sin  yet  groan  under  a  weight  of 
imperfections.  Their  souls  are  still  the  theatre  where  the 
powers  of  life  war  with  the  powers  of  death,  and  where  the 
spirit  and  the  flesh  contend  for  the  mastery.  Their  hearts 
are  the  seat  of  many  sorrows  which  necessarily  cling  to 
15 


170  THE    SEPULCHRE    PROCLAIMS 

our  present  life.  The  believer  is  in  a  state  of  humiliation, 
and  not  of  exaltation — he  now  bears  the  cross,  but  shall  wear 
the  crown,  "It  does  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be." 
But  we  are  tending  upward  to  Zion,  "  and  like  as  the  ark  in 
the  desert  covered  with  the  skins  of  animals  had  an  unattrac- 
tive exterior,"  but  underneath  those  rough  externals  there 
reposed  the  majesty  and  glory  of  Deity  ;  thus  also,  within 
that  garb  of  flesh  which  the  believer  wears,  there  lives  a  soul 
instinct  with  divinity  that  shall  one  day  burst  its  casement 
and  rise  to  the  presence  of  God,  and  flame  with  a  glory  more 
refulgent  than  that  of  the  sun.  And  as  the  path  which  Jesus 
trod  lay  through  suffering  to  glory,  we  could,  as  his  follow- 
ers, desire  no  smoother  road  ;  forasmuch  as  disciples  should 
contentedly  and  willingly  tread  in  the  footsteps  of  the  Master. 
Therefore  we  are  children,  "  and  if  children,  then  heirs,  heirs 
of  God,  and  joint  heirs  with  Jesus  Christ,  if  so  be  that  we 
suffer  with  him,  that  we  may  also  be  glorified  together." 
The  children  of  God  should  experience  the  weakness  and 
decay  of  all  earthly  things,  that  they  may  not  desire  a  "  con- 
tinuing city  here,  but  seek  one  which  is  to  come."  There 
are  those  whose  trials  are  manifold,  and  whose  life  is  filled 
up  with  uninterrupted  weakness  and  pain.  Poverty,  sickness, 
and  care  are  sometimes  their  portion,  "for  many  are  the 
afflictions  of  the  righteous."  They  are  exiles  who  live  yet 
at  a  distance  from  their  Father's  house  ; — pilgrims  journeying 
through  a  desert  land,  and  sighing  for  that  celestial  home 
\vhere  the  chosen  of  all  ages  meet.  They  are  encompassed 
with  evils,  and  may  suffer  reproach  and  persecution  ;  for  they 


THE   EVIL    OF   SIN.  171 

are  sometimes  neglected  and  hated,  and  are  made  the 
subjects  of  derision  and  scorn.  They  behold  the  eifects  of 
sin  around  them,  and.  are  in  sympathy  with  an  oppressed 
world.  They  sorrow  over  those  loved  ones  who  are  smitten 
down  by  death.  And  as  they  lay  them  in  the  cold  grave,  it 
is  with  groanings  for  that  redemption  which  shall  place 
them  all  beyond  the  reach  and  power  of  the  bondage  of 
corruption. 

What  a  mournful  spectacle,  what  a  gloomy  picture,  unrolls 
itself  to  the  mind  as  we  look  abroad  from  the  sepulchre  over 
the  desolations  which  sin  has  wrought !  It  is,  indeed,  an 
exhaustless  fountain  of  woes.  It  has  been  flowing  ever  since 
man  opened  it  in  Paradise  ;  and  all  have  tasted  its  bitter 
waters.  No  tropic  sun  has  been  able  to  dry  up  its  streams  ; 
no  frozen  north  has  chilled  and  bound  its  channels.  No 
desert  sands  have  swallowed  them  up  ;  no  mountain  barriers 
have  stayed  their  progress.  Its  dark  current  rolls  with  fear- 
ful violence  over  all  the  earth ;  now  rising  into  the  loftiest 
palace,  then  descending  into  the  lowliest  hut,  and  everywhere 
quenching  the  lamps  of  life.  It  swept  a  world's  population  into 
eternity,  and,  when  repeopled,  drew  upon  others  the  devouring 
wrath  of  God.  It  has  kept  alive  from  age  to  age  unholy 
kindling  in  the  bosoms  of  earthly  potentates  the  lust  of  passions, 
power,  of  gain,  and  of  conquest,  and  everyv.diere  announcing 
its  presence  in  wars  and  bloodshed,  until  the  chronicles  of 
earth  are  burdened  with  crimes  and  woes.  Ruined  cities, 
desolated  countries,  and  masses  of  unburied  and  blenching 
hum^n  skeletons,  proclaim  the  woes  which  sin  has  produced. 


172  THE    SEPULCHRE    PROCLAIMS 

And  when  it  does  not  destroy  with  the  fire  and  the  sword,  it 
comes  in  the  "  pestilence  which  walketh  in  darkness,  and  in 
the  destruction  which  wasteth  at  noonday;"  in  the  famine 
which  devours  its  miUions,  and  in  numberless  diseases  which 
have  filled  our  hearts  with  grief,  and  the  sepulchres  of  our 
departed  with  their  precious  forms.  But  for  it  these  graves 
would  never  have  been  dug,  and  these  tears  never  would 
have  flowed.  But  for  sin  no  death-groan  would  ever  have 
startled  the  ear  of  mortals;  and  this  globe  would  not  have 
become  what  it  now  is,  a  vast  charnel-house  of  corruption. 
It  is  this  fearful  element  of  ruin  that  has  made  man  frail  as 
the  leaf;  that  has  poisoned  the  air  we  breathe,  and  the  water 
we  drink,  so  that  disease  rises  out  of  fountains,  floats  upon 
the  winds,  and  meets  us  at  every  step  in  the  journey  of  life. 
Ay,  it  is  this  parent  of  all  wo  whose  existence  we  have 
cause  to  deplore.  For  all  the  physical  evils  to  which 
man  is  heir — all  the  social  evils  which  afflict  society — all  the 
moral  deformities  which  mar  and  distort  humanity  —  and  all 
the  distresses  which  throw^  the  heart  of  the  vast  organism  of 
creation  into  such  anguish  as  to  send  its  throbbing  woes 
through  its  immense  channels  —  all  these  are  the  fruits  of 
sin.  Blinded  by  its  influence,  we  have  only  a  very  par- 
tial knowledge  of  its  loathsome  character.  Could  we  see  it 
as  God  sees  it,  and  know  its  work  as  He  knows  it,  sin  would 
indeed  be  a  monster  of  frightful  aspect.  But  we  see,  and 
know,  and  feel  enough  of  its  blighting  power.  The  many 
desolate  hearths,  the  faded  Edens,  and  multitudes  of  weep- 
ing and  breaking  hearts  around  us,  proclaim  its  destructive 


'  THE   EVIL    OF   SIN.  173 

character.  Could  we  collect  the  anguish,  the  tears,  and  dis- 
appointed hopes  with  which  it  has  filled  the  world,  we  would 
shrink  appalled  from  the  spectacle.  And  since  it  gives  birth 
to  all  secret  sorrows  and  all  public  calamities,  and  has  made 
it  necessary  for  the  Holy  One  to  assume  our  nature  that  He 
mioht  atone  for  our  ffuilt,  and  even  now  inflicts  fresh  v.ounds 
in  every  transgression  on  the  Son  of  God,  while  it  excites 
our  fears  by  peopling  eternity  with  alarming  torments,  shuts 
up  heaven  and  thrusts  down  to  hell,  should  we  cherish  it? 
Nay,  let  us  loathe  it ;  let  us  flee  and  renounce  it,  and  bear  none 
but  its  necessary  evils,  and  soften  these  with  the  balm  of  life. 
Let  us  not  suffer  it  to  enslave  us  in  debasing  bondage,  or 
bring  us  to  an  unholy  grave  and  an  undone  eternity  ;  for  if 
this  world,  in  its  ameliorated  state  by  the  influences  of  the 
work  of  redemption,  still  groans,  what  must  be  the  weight  of 
damnation  ?  If  the  curse  of  sin  wrings  cries  of  anguish  from 
a  laboring  creation,  with  what  crushing  force  will  not  the 
curse  of  final  rejection  fall  upon  the  unhappy  sinner !  Can 
thy  heart  be  strong  and  thy  soul  endure  the  weight  of  eternal 
woes  ?  0,  God  !  draw  us,  that  we  may  hasten  to  Thee 
for  refuge,  for  peace,  and  for  hope.  For  within  the  embraces 
of  thy  love  we  find  our  true  felicity  ;  and  with  Thy  presence 
to  cheer  us,  we  will  press  forward  through  this  vale  of  tears, 
until  our  bodies  find  repose  in  the  grave,  and  our  souls  rest 
in  heaven. 

"There  shall  I  bathe  my  weary  soul 
In  sens  of  heavenly  rest ; 
And  not  a  wave  of  trouble  roll 
Across  my  peaceful  breast." 

lo 


174  THE    SEPULCHRE    PROCLAIMS,  ETC. 

0,  my  God !  Thou  art  merciful,  and  faithful,  and  true. 
Thou  hast  given  this  world  to  Thy  Son.  He  has  purchased 
it  by  the  wealth  of  His  priceless  suffering,  by  His  blood,  and 
the  offering  of  His  soul.  Hasten,  then,  His  universal  reign, 
and  the  complete  redemption  of  this  earth.  O,  Thou  insulted 
Sovereign  !  pity  Thy  fallen  creation.  Dry  up  the  fountains  of 
sin  ;  command  its  desolating  streams  back  to  the  abysses  of 
hell,  and  there  bind  them  in  eternal  fetters.  Stay  the  foot- 
steps of  the  destroyer ;  break  his  terrible  spell,  and  overturn 
the  throne  of  Iniquity.  Multiply  and  encourage  the  good ; 
fill  with  Thy  wisdom  and  omnipotence  all  their  schemes  of 
mercy,  that  Thou  mayest  be  recognized  as  moving  in  these, 
that  the  earth  may  tremble  beneath  Thy  tread,  and  thrones 
and  kingdoms  melt  away  before  Thy  purposes,  until  the 
shout  of  final  and  complete  conquest  is  rolled  around  the 
globe,  and  ascends  and  mingles  with  the  notes  of  the 
numberless  multitude,  pealing  with  the  voice  often  thousand 
thunders  through  the  universe,  "  Hallelujah  !  for  the  kingdoms 
of  the  earth  have  become  the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord  and  his 
Christ." 

0 !  let  the  cries  of  our  afflicted,  yearning  humanity  pierce 
Thy  heavens.  Almighty  Father,  and  join  their  petitions  with 
those  of  atoning  blood,  and  bring  peace  and  deliverance  to 
its  anguished  heart.  Yes,  hasten  the  w^orld's  redemption! 
Dawn,  O  dawn  !  thy  day  of  glory  !  that  the  groanings  of 
this  travailing  creation  may  be  changed  into  songs  of  deliver- 
ance and  everlasting  praise. 


CHAPTER  NINTH. 

THE    SEPULCHRES    OF    OUR    DEPARTED    ADJIONISH 
US    TO    BE    GENTLE    AND   KIND    TO    THE    LIVING. 


"  Be  kind  to  each  other  through  weal  and  through  wo, 
For  there's  many  a  sorrow  for  hearts  here  below  ; 
The  storms  of  this  life  beat  around  us  in  vain, 
If  we're  kind  to  each  other  in  jsleasure  and  pain." 


Beautiful  is  the  twinkling  star  that  lonely  shines  far  out 
in  the  firmament  of  a  dark  night,  and  charming  that  flower 
which  blooms  amid  the  wide-spread  waste  of  desert  sands. 
In  the  eyes  of  the  observer  the  brilliancy  of  the  one  is 
augmented  by  the  darkness  which  surrrounds  it ;  and  the 
loveliness  of  the  other  enhanced  by  the  absence  of  all  things 
else  fitted  to  produce  delight.  And  thus,  also,  in  this  world 
of  clashing  schemes  and  jarring  interests,  of  disappointments 
and  sorrows,  of  blighted  hopes  and  broken  hearts,  there  is 
nothing  which  more  successfully  relieves  the  gloom  and 
softens  the  woes  of  life  than  kindness.  That  star  in  the 
canopy  of  heaven  is  not  so  beautiful,  nor  is  that  lone  flower 
in  that  arid  scene  so  lovely,  as  a  gentle  spirit.  A  spirit  that 
glows  with  goodness,  thrills  in  all  its  fibres  with  kind  inten- 
tions, and  is  ever  animated  with  purposes  of  mercy,  is  the  first- 

(175) 


176  KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVING, 

born  of  holy  love.  It  is  born  from  heaven,  and  is  attired 
and  sent  on  its  mission  by  Him  who  is  love.  Behold  how  it 
moves  about  with  cherub  wings,  dropping  upon  the  desert 
spots  of  life  those  kindnesses  and  blessings  which,  like 
fragrant  flowers,  exhale  their  aroma  on  the  air  we  breathe. 
It  is  a  bright  visitant  to  dark  and  desolate  homes,  mingling 
its  tears  with  wretchedness,  illumining  the  despairing  and 
desponding  with  smiles  of  pity,  and  breathing  into  downcast 
hearts  the  energies  of  hope.  May  this  celestial  spirit  find  a 
home  in  every  bosom,  that  we  may  with  its  gentle  influence 
smooth  for  each  other  the  asperities  of  life. 

Many  are  the  blessings  of  social  life  and  rich  and  varied 
are  its  enjoyments,  but  it  has  also  its  trials,  and  its  joys  are 
often  embittered  by  disappointments  and  crosses.  A  friend 
is  unfaithful,  the  family  is  afflicted,  some  unkind  gossip 
reaches  our  ear  and  chafes  our  spirit,  or  envy  shoots  a  dart 
to  wound  our  reputation.  Vexations  and  annoyances  in  one 
form  or  another  meet  us  at  every  step  and  turn  in  life,  so  that 
no  palace  nor  cottage,  no  home  nor  heart  may  be  found,  where 
the  cares  that  befall  us  do  not  make  a  portion  of  our  life  a 
weariness.  And  0,  how  reviving  to  the  tried  and  afflicted 
is  the  solace  which  a  gentle  spirit  imparts ;  and  how  soothing 
to  an  anguished  mind  are  words  of  kindness  from  a  friend  ! 
If  the  world  is  dark  with  frowns,  and  we  tread  a  thorny  road, 
we  regard  none  of  these,  so  that  a  few  kind  hearts  beat 
around  us,  and  a  few  gentle  spirits  bless  us  with  their  minis- 
trations. Human  nature  is  susceptible  of  high  cultivation  ; 
but  whatever  excellencies  it  may  possess,  among  aU  its  visible 


KINDNESS   TO   THE   LIVING.  177 

virtues,  there  are  none  which  adorn  it  with  a  lovelier  aspect 
than  gentleness  and  kindness.  These  shed  a  lustre  over  all 
other  traits  and  invest  the  whole  character  with  attractive 
charms  ;  for,  wherever  found,  they  impart  grace  and  beauty. 
Acts  of  kindness  are  the  offspring  of  a  gentle  spirit.  They 
are  seeds  of  blessing  which  have  always  rewarded  the  sower 
W'ith  an  abundant  harvest.  There  are  many  sources  from 
which  we  may  learn  the  value  of  gentleness  and  kindness, 
and  there  are  numerous  and  weighty  considerations  which 
might  be  urged  for  their  cultivation.  They  are  clothed  with 
an  excellence  which  must  commend  them  to  our  understand- 
ings, and  which  never  fails  to  win  our  hearts.  What  are  the 
objects  which  we  most  admire  in  the  world  around  us  ? 
Assuredly  those  things  which  are  clothed  with  an  air  of 
gentleness.  The  unchained  hurricane  may  inspire  feelings 
of  terror  as  the  eye  runs  along  the  desolations  that  mark  its 
track  ;  but  it  is  the  soft  breeze,  which  soothes  the  fevered 
invalid  and  sustains  the  man  of  toil,  that  we  love.  The 
traveller,  oppressed  by  a  burning  sun,  and  toiling  his  slow 
progress  through  hot  sands,  dreads  the  simoom  ;  but  is  glad- 
dened and  refreshed,  while  his  soul  swells  with  emotions  of 
delight,  as  the  gentle  zephyr  fans  him,  as  with  angel  wings, 
while  he  reposes  in  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock.  There  is  a 
wild  grandeur  in  the  dashing  and  foaming  torrent:  as  if 
incensed  by  the  obstruction  it  meets  in  those  rocky  barriers 
over  which  its  course  leads,  it  leaps  angrily  onward  until  it 
falls  over  the  frightful  precipice  in  broken  masses  ;  but  it  is 
only  beautiful  when  those  waters  pass  out  from  that  whirl- 


ITO  KINDNESS   TO    THE   LIVING. 

pool  and  form  themselves  into  a  river  that  flows  quietly  and 
placidly  from  that  scene  of  confusion,  and  winds  through 
smiling  valleys  reflecting  the  glory  of  the  setting  sun,  and 
adding  to  the  tranquillity  which  reigns  at  evening  over  the 
landscape.  It  is  when  the  war  of  elements  is  hushed,  and 
the  tempest  has  rolled  off  its  dark  chariots,  and  the  lightnings 
on  the  distant  horizon  are  flashing  their  retreat,  that  we  con- 
template with  pleasure  the  spangled  heavens.  The  starry 
firmament  in  the  midnight  stillness,  when  the  music  of  the 
spheres  charms  the  ear  of  the  spirit,  causes  our  thoughts  and 
aspirations  to  rise  on  angel  wings  to  yondr-r  fields  of  light, 
and  carries  our  affections  within  that  world  of  glory  where  sits 
enthroned  the  infinite  Ruler  of  the  universe  ;  and  the  soul 
mingles  in  the  sublime  worship  above,  and  bends  in  profound 
adoration  with  the  innumerable  throng  around  the  throne  of 
eternal  love.  It  is  the  quiet  landscape  on  which  the  light  of 
day  gradually  melts  away  into  the  twilight ;  when  the  bleating 
of  lambs,  and  the  lowing  of  kine,  are  dying  upon  the  air  ;  and 
all  the  noises  of  a  restless  world  are  blending  into  the  repose 
of  evening;  and  tlie  gentle  brook  warbles  its  lonely  and 
plaintive  notes  ;  it  is  then  that  the  scene  kindles  within  us  the 
sweetest  emotions,  because  in  unison  with  the  rest  of  this 
laboring  world.  It  is  the  gentleness  which  characterizes  the 
revolutions  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  and  the  silent  but  mighty 
operations  of  nature,  which  impart  to  them  their  loftiest 
grandeur  and  highest  glory.  It  is  not  nature  in  war,  but 
nature  in  repose,  that  we  love.  There  is  gentleness  in  the 
descending  sunbeam  and  in  the  falling  shower.      Softly  does 


KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVING.  179 

the  dew  distil  upon  the  earth,  and  silently  is  the  work 
of  those  laws  accomplished  which  robe  the  forest  in  iis 
foliage,  and  the  field  in  its  harvests.  And  within  the  social 
circle  we  are  most  frequently  and  irresistibly  drawn  into  the 
society  of  those  of  our  associates  and  friends  who  are  of  a 
meek  and  quiet  spirit ;  and  for  a  long  and  prosperous  friend- 
ship none  are  so  well  qualified  to  crown  it  with  blessings ; 
forasmuch  as  kindness  and  gentleness  are  jewels  which 
change  and  age  do  not  dim.  And  while  we  cheerfully  yield 
our  admiration  to  the  objects  in  which  they  are  found,  there 
are  numberless  reasons  which  should  induce  us  to  labor  for 
their  possession.  Behold  that  mother  whose  life  is  character- 
ized by  gentleness!  what  an  air  of  peace  she  sheds  over  the 
family  circle.  Its  moulding  power  is  felt  by  the  spirit  of 
her  husband ;  the  stern  and  severe  features  of  his  character 
are  softened,  and  his  mind  acts  "with  a  new  force  in  all 
the  walks  of  business.  And  upon  the  pliable  nature  of  her 
children  the  image  of  her  lovely  spirit  forms  itself,  and  shows 
all  its  interesting  features  in  their  looks,  language,  and 
behaviour ;  and  the  whole  family  becomes  noted  for  its 
amiability  ;  for  all  their  actions  are  cast  in  the  same  mould  of 
kindness. 

But  it  is  time  to  inquire  as  to  the  manner  in  which  the 
sepulchre  becomes  a  teacher  of  gentleness  and  kindness. 
There  is  perhap.~  no  instructor  that  can  so  impressively  set 
forth  their  value,  and  none  in  whose  presence  we  feel  so 
sensibly  the  importance  of  such  a  course  of  conduct  towards 
our  brethren  of  mankind,  that,  when  they  leave  this  world, 


180  KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVING. 

we  have  notliing  of  harshness  towards  them  with  which 
to  reproach  ourselves.  0 !  what  unavaiUng  regrets  are 
sometimes  uttered  over  the  dead,  and  what  burning  tears 
and  lamentations  are  sometimes  poured  around  theii 
tombs !  Memory  is  never  more  active  nor  more  faithful  in 
calling  up'past  events,  than  at  the  graves  of  our  cherished 
ones.  All  that  we  have  ever  done,  or  said,  to  grieve  or 
afflict  a  parent,  a  friend,  or  a  child,  will  start  up  before  the 
mind  like  a  frightful  and  accusing  spectre.  Even  intended 
wrongs,  which  were  never  consummated,  are  remembered 
with  bitterness  of  heart.  Bitter  are  the  tears,  and  touchingly 
painful  the  grief  of  that  youth,  whose  waywardness  pierced 
the  heart  of  an  affectionate  parent,  "  and  brought  his  gray 
hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave."  It  was  with  a  vile  hand 
that  he  broke  those  golden  cords  by  which  a  mother's  efforts 
and  a  mother's  prayers  had  bound  his  infant  soul  to  virtue  ; 
and,  contrary  to  her  example,  and  in  opposition  to  her 
instructions,  he  threw  the  pearl  of  price  into  the  dust.  Or  it 
may  have  been  a  companion,  a  friend,  or  a  child,  to  whom  a 
mysterious  Providence  appointed  a  painful  and  protracted 
affliction,  and  designed  you  as  the  kind  attendant  and 
ministering  spirit  of  that  declining  one.  In  such  an  office 
human  nature  soon  grows  weary  and  impatient  of  its  confine- 
ment to  the  functions  of  tliose  who  nurse  the  afflicted  ;  and 
if,  as  it  frequently  happens,  the  patient  becomes  restless  and 
peevish  under  his  multiform  sufferings,  he  may  increase  the 
annoyance  of  the  attendant,  until  it  manifests  itself  in  a 
weary  look,  and  in  marked  reluctance  in  the  discharge  of  his 


KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVING.  181 

duty.  As  an  illustration,  I  may  here  give  the  history  of  a 
young  lady  who  detailed  her  own  experience  in  such  a  case 
to  a  friend,  from  whom  she  sought  comfort.  Her  mother 
was  called  to  pass  through  along  and  painful  aflliiction  before 
she  died.  The  daughter  was  remarkably  kind  and  affection- 
ate, and  by  day  and  by  night  ministered  to  her  wants.  The 
sliohiest  couo;h  or  o-roan  of  her  mother  would  awaken  her, 
and  instantly  bring  her  to  the  couch  of  her  sick  parent.  But, 
wearied  with  long  watchings,  her  own  health  ga\e  way,  and 
she  permitted  thoughts  of  her  hard  condition  to  rise  and 
strengthen  in  her  mind,  until  they  assailed  and  overthrew  her 
patience.  She  had  laid  down  to  find  relief  in  sleep  from  the 
feelings  which  clouded  her  heart ;  and  shoilly  after,  having 
fallen  into  a  troubled  slumber,  the  voice  of  the  afllicted  one 
faintly  called  for  a  glass  of  water.  She  felt  irritated  as  she 
rose ;  and,  although  she  uttered  not  a  word,  her  looks 
betrayed  her  feelings  as  the  light  shone  fully  in  her  face  ;  and 
the  feelings  depicted  in  that  countenance  put  gall  and  worm- 
wood into  that  cup  of  water,  and  crushed  the  heart  that 
fondly  loved  her — and  it  stood  pulseless  that  moment.  The 
revulsion  of  that  daughter's  feelings  was  sudden  and  terrible, 
while  it  swept  with  desolating  power  over  her  soul.  In  vain 
she  sobbed  and  shrieked  ;  in  vain  did  she  chafe  those  icy 
hands  ;  in  vain  she  bathed  those  cold  temples  with  her  liot 
tears.  "  0  !"  she  cried.  "  for  one  word  of  pardon  —  0  !  (wr 
one  forgiving  look  from  my  dear  mother!"  but  those  lips 
were  sealed  in  death,  and  those  eyes  were  closed  forever. 
"  O  !  sir,"  she  said  to  the  friend  to  whom  she  related  the 
16 


182  KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVING. 

incident,  "  this  sorrow  lias  reached  through  all  my  life.  The 
memory  of  that  hour  throws  its  dark  shadow  over  every 
bright  scene,  and  casts  its  bitter  ingredients  into  all  the 
streams  of  my  comfort.  Years  have  passed  away  ;  but  that 
unkind  look  which  broke  my  mother's  heart  rankles  as  a 
thorn  in  my  soul,  and  will  cause  my  heart  to  bleed  until  I 
obtain  her  forgiveness  in  heaven."  ^ 

A  favorite  writer,  whose  every  intellectual  offspring  gloM'S  and 
dazzles,  holds  the  following  language  in  reference  to  the  grave : 
"  Who  can  look  down  upon  the  grave  even  of  an  enemy, 
and  not  feel  a  compunctious  throb  that  ever  he  should  have 
warred  with  the  poor  handful  of  earth  that  lies  mouldering 
before  him!"  "But  the  grave  of  those  we  loved  —  what  a 
place  for  meditation  !"  "Ay,  go  to  the  grave  of  buried  love, 
and  meditate!  There  settle  the  accounts  with  thy  conscience 
for  every  past  benefit  unrequited,  every  past  endearment 
unregarded,  of  that  departed  being  who  can  never,  never 
return  to  be  soothed  by  thy  contrition." 

Some  years  ago  I  knew  a  beautiful  young  lady,  who  was 
delicately  reared  and  warmly  cherished  by  a  highly  respect- 
able circle  of  affectionate  friends.  She  was  gifted  with  rare 
intellectual  powers,  with  refined  sensibilities,  and  these 
crowned  with  that  charming  amiability  which  a  gentle 
spirit  imparts  to  a  lofty  soul ;  and  all  were  canopied  by  a 
person  of  extraordinary  beauty.  Like  a  delicate  flower  that 
blooms  and  exhales  its  fragrance  upon  the  air  under  the 
wooing  influences  of  a  sunny  clime,  and  that  would  shrink 
instinctively  and  wither  from  the  first  breath  of  cold,  sc  v.?s 


KINDNESS   TO   THE   LIVING.  183 

my  young  friend  brilliant  and  beautiful,  but  so  tender  that  a 
frowning  look  would  bathe  her  in  tears.  She  was  amiable 
and  confiding  as  a  child.  Open  in  her  manners,  ardent  and 
innocent  in  her  feelings,  no  dark  suspicion  of  the  integrity  of 
others  entered  her  soul.  And,  thus  constituted,  she  measured 
others  by  her  own  guileless  nature,  and  believed  them  to  be 
upright  and  true  as  herself;  and  having  never  been  deceived, 
she  thought  the  intentions  of  her  suitor  were  as  holy  as  those 
which  reposed  in  her  own  bosom.  She  was  wooed  and  won 
by  a  man  of  some  talent,  yet  her  inferior  in  intellectual 
strength,  and  supremely  selfish  ;  who  but  plucked  the  lovely 
flower  from  the  parent  stem,  then  cast  it  aside  to  wither. 
Passionately  did  she  love  him  ;  and  fondly  did  the  tendrils 
of  her  affections  twine  around  the  spirit  of  him  who  should 
have  been  to  her  what  the  oak  is  to  the  vine,  a  shelter  from 
the  heat,  and  a  support  in  the  storm.  But  a  nature  so  gross 
as  his  was  ill  adapted  to  one  of  fine  texture  ;  neither  w^as  he 
capable  of  appreciating  a  creature  so  lovely ;  and  he  grew 
cold  and  selfish  —  his  looks,  words,  and  actions  became 
harshly  repulsive,  and  fell  like  mildew  upon  her  heart,  so 
that,  instead  of  being  attracted  by  kindness,  she  shrank  under 
his  scowl  like  a  timid  fawn.  She  received  not  those  little 
attentions  and  approving  smiles  which  are  the  dew  and  sun- 
shine to  the  soul  of  a  loving  wife.  She  was  seldom  seen  in 
those  little  gatherings  where  the  husband  was  found  ;  and 
when  she  walked,  it  was  alone  and  without  the  stroncj  staff 
upon  which  she  had  leaned,  butl  which  had  pierced  her 
heart.     And   yet   she    was   meek    ;:nd   uncomplaining;    no 


184  KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVINtt. 

reproachful  look  nor  unkind  word  escaped  her;  "but  like 
the  pierced  dove  which  hides  her  Nvounds  with  her  snowy 
wings,"  so  did  she  conceal  her  heart-sorrow  from  all  but  a 
few  friends.  She  knew  that  the  blow  which  shattered 
her  heart  must  soon  terminate  her  sorrows  ;  and  here  was  her 
only  comfort  —  the  hope  of  deliverance  from  this  bondage. 
She  had  a  mother  and  Saviour  in  heaven,  and  she  knew  that 
they  loved  her;  and  there  too,  perhaps,  might  he  whom  she 
still  adored,  but  under  whose  neglect  she  was  pining  away, 
be  possessed  of  a  gentler  nature.  The  Lord,  to  whom  alone 
she  told  all  her  sorrows,  had  pity  upon  her,  and  in  the  pleni- 
tude of  His  compassion,  sent  an  angel  to  break  her  fetters 
and  set  the  fair  prisoner  free.  A  few  months'  work  of  a 
gentle  disease  "broke  the  golden  bowl,  and  loosened  the 
silver  chord,  and  broke  the  pitcher  at  the  fountain.  Her 
death  was  gentle  and  beautiful  as  her  life  had  been  ;  and  the 
transactions  of  that  parting  scene  were  fraught  with  keen 
anguish  to  the  heart  that  had  deceived  her.  And  how^  must 
the  recollection  of  those  wrongs  which  blighted  one  of  the 
fairest  daughters  of  earth  oppress  the  mind  of  her  betrayer, 
if  there  still  lingers  within  it  some  measure  of  sensibility  ! 
Who  would,  for  ten  thousand  worlds,  have  those  dark  reflec- 
tions which  must  throng  around  his  brain,  and  crawl  like 
scorpions  and  stinging  adders  around  his  conscience  in  the 
midnight  hour  —  that  hour  during  which  a  mysterious  Power 
so  often  brings  about  a  resurrection  of  our  sins,  and  places 
them  as  accusers  before  the  mind!  Would  that  we  could 
believe  this  to  be  an  isolated  case !  but,  could  we  see  what 


KINDNESS   TO    THE   LIVING.  185 

the  eye  above  us  sees,  alas!  how  many  would  we  behold 
withering  like  delicate  flowers  under  intentional  or  uninten- 
tional neglect  on  the  part  of  those  who  have  vowed  to  cherisli 
and  love  them!  And,  oh!  if  there  be  a  crime  which  more 
especially  merits  the  frown  of  heaven  and  the  reprobation  of 
mankind  than  other  wrongs,  it  is  that  of  harshness  and  un- 
kindness  to  a  sensitive  and  gentle  wife.  My  soul  has  no 
compassion,  much  less  respect,  for  one  who  is  so  brutal  in 
his  feelings,  and  so  debased  in  his  nature,  as  to  enable  him, 
by  scowls  and  reproachful  words  to  send  from  his  presence 
the  heart  that  idolizes  him,  tremblino;  with  fear  and  bleedinsj 
with  anguish.  A  woman  of  fine  sensibilities  and  quick  per- 
ceptions is  always  uncomplaining,  even  when  she  feels  all 
this ;  for  such  is  the  weight  of  her  wrongs  that  they  find 
expression  only  in  secret  tears,  while  they  form  that  deep 
sorrow  which  settles  with  all  the  fixedness  and  gloom  of  des- 
pair upon  her  soul.  And  even  when  thrown  within  the 
excitements  of  the  gay  circle,  and  she  participates  in  social 
amusements,  there  is  a  tinge  of  sadness  in  her  eye,  and  a 
languor  in  her  smile,  that  reveal  a  deeply-seated  heart-sorrow. 
It  is  a  dictate  of  wisdom,  if  nothing  more,  to  shun  the 
oppressor  of  woman,  and  to  beware  of  him  as  we  would  of 
the  wily  serpent.  If  we  have  lost  friends  whose  graves  are 
not  yet  dug,  and  who  once  lived  within  our  inmost  heart, 
but  who  most  of  all  others  abused  our  confidence  and  out- 
raged our  feelings,  we  would  certainly  reckon  as  first  those 
who  tyrannized  over  a  delicate  woman  and  crushed  a  gentle 
spirit  by  unkindness ;  for  we  hold  it  to  be  an  incontrovertible 
16* 


186  KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVING. 

truth  that  the  heart  that  is  false  in  the  home  circle,  and  while 
it  throbs  against  a  bosom  of  purity,  is  false  everywhere 
else.  But  we  hope  that  there  are  few  such  instances, 
in  comparison  with  the  many  who  know  how  to  illumine 
their  homes  with  kindness,  and  under  whose  fostering 
care  the  souls  of  those  gentle  beings  with  whose  destiny 
their  own  and  that  of  their  children  is  linked,  are  light  and 
joyous,  and  pour  forth  from  those  exhaustless  fountains  of 
woman's  affection  that  wealth  of  love  which  strengthens  and 
beautifies  the  nature  of  man,  animates  him  with  unconquer- 
able energy  for  the  race  of  life,  gives  birth  to  high  resolves, 
and  fills  his  soul  with  that  quiet,  deep,  and  abiding  happi- 
ness which  no  other  object  except  a  gentle  and  beautiful 
wife  can  bestow  outside  of  heaven.  And  all  those  who  can 
appreciate  her  worth,  and  are  cheered  by  her  presence,  and 
sustained  by  the  energy  of  her  love,  will  respond  to  the 
sentiment  as  though  it  were  uttered  out  of  their  own 
hearts,  that  is  so  happily  and  elegantly  expressed  by  a  gifted 
poet :  — 

"Feel'st  thou  no  joy,  no  quiet  happiness, 
No  soothing  sense  of  satisfaction,  in 
Loving  and  being  loved?     Is  there  no  weight 
Removed  from  the  heart,  in  knowing  there  is  one 
To  share  all,  to  bear  all  with  thee  ?     To  soothe  grief, 
Yea,  to  soften  away  its  human  pain 
By  a  superior  love,  the  cup  to  temper 
With  words  of  consolation  and  sweet  hope. 
That  even  its  very  bitterness  shall  seem  sweet. 
Forgotten  in  the  love  that  offers  it!" 

As  another  illustration  of  the  painful  regrets  which   are 


KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVING.  187 

sometimes  induced  by  the  consciousness  of  having  acted 
unkindly  towards  those  who  are  near  and  dear  to  us,  I  may 
mention  some  incidents  in  the  life  of  a  young  man  with  \Yhora 
I  am  personally  acquainted,  and  who  has  not  yet  forgiven 
himself  for  acting  in  opposition  to  the  expressed  wishes 
of  honored  parents.  He  was  the  youngest  of  an  ancient  and 
excellent  family,  and  as  fondly  cherished  by  an  aged  father 
and  mother,  as  Jacob  loved  Joseph.  But  in  common  with 
other  young  men  who  have  been  reared  in  fashionable  life, 
and  in  affluent  circumstances,  he  felt  those  stirrings  for 
adventure  and  distinction  within  him  which  invariably  beo-et 
that  restlessness  of  spirit  which  so  frequently  issues  in  a 
wandering  life.  As  these  fires  were  slowly  burning  and 
occasionally  flashing  forth  in  expressions  of  hope  for 
enlargement,  they  were  suddenly  fanned  into  irrepressible 
power  by  the  adventures  and  reported  successes  of  those  who 
had  abandoned  their  homes  and  gone  to  the  golden  land. 
He  became  restive  under  the  family  restraints,  and  impatient 
under  the  gentle  rule  of  a  worthy,  but  indulgent  father.  He 
longed  for  a  larger  freedom,  and  a  more  untrammelled  inde- 
pendence. The  venerable  patriarch  expostulated  with  his 
son,  when  he  uttered  his  determination  to  go  to  the  far-off 
land.  He  drew  a  vivid  picture  of  the  privations  and  suffer- 
ings which  those  had  endured  whose  bones  were  then 
bleaching  somewhere  in  the  pathless  wilds,  where  they  had 
fallen  while  on  their  way  to  the  country  whither  he  wished  to 
go  ;  and  the  perils  of  body  and  of  soul  to  which  he  would 
be  exposed,  away  from  the  influences  of  the  sanctuary  and  the 


188  KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVING. 

pleasant  restraints  of  home.  He  begged  him  to  consider  the 
pain  he  would  occasion  to  them  all  if  he  persisted  in  his 
determination  to  sunder  those  ties  which  bound  him  to  those 
who  gave  him  birth.  And,  softening  as  he  proceeded,  he 
continued,  "My  son,  why  not  settle  down  upon  your  farm, 
and  live  near  your  brothers  and  sisters,  so  that  when  you  are 
sick  we  may  be  near  to  comfort  you,  or  in  distress  w^e  may 
have  the  power  to  minister  to  your  wants.  Look  upon 
me  and  your  mother  —  we  have  travelled  far  in  the  race 
of  life,  the  infirmities  of  age  are  fast  gathering  upon  us,  and 
our  pilgrimage  is  drawing  to  a  close.  Leave  us  not  to  go 
down  into  the  valley  of  death  unattended  by  you.  0  !  permit 
our  eyes  to  rest  their  last  look  upon  you,  the  child  of  our  old 
age.  At  least,  wait  until  we  shall  sleep  with  our  fathers, 
before  you  carry  your  purpose  into  effect."  But  the  sunny 
land,  with  its  rivers  flowing  with  the  sparkling  dust,  was 
continually  floating  before  his  excited  vision,  and  charmed 
his  heart  away.  He  had  heard  of  the  ample  treasures  which 
men  amassed  in  a  few  days ;  and  in  his  dreams  by  night  he 
saw  the  brilliant  ore  spread  out  at  his  feet  and  waiting  his 
appropriation  of  it.  His  imagination  threw  its  bewitching 
charms  around  the  pomp,  splendor,  and  honor  which  large 
wealth  can  purchase ;  and  the  future  rose  before  his  mind 
clothed  in  the  most  gorgeous  hues,  till  he  resolved  to  break 
away  from  every  consideration  which  had  been  urged,  and 
go  in  pursuit  of  the  coveted  good.  And  he  did  go  ;  neither 
the  remonstrances  nor  tears  of  his  parents,  and  a  large  circle 
of   friends,    could    detain    him.     He    dashed    every    tender 


KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVING.  189 

recollection  from  his  mind,  quieted  bis  heart  to  every  mis- 
giving, and  nerved  his  soul  to  brave  every  form  of  danger 
that  lay  between  him  and  the  object  he  loved.  Wearily  and 
sadly  did  those  aged  ones  spend  the  evening  of  their  life. 
And  often  through  the  \vatches  of  the  night  there  would 
break  forth  from  their  pillow  ;  —  "  0  !  my  son,  my  son  —  0  ! 
my  God,  bring  back  our  child."  Others,  kind  and  faithful, 
strove  to  comfort  them  ;  but  their  thoughts  seemed  to  wander 
continually  after  the  absent  one.  The  time  of  their  departure 
arrived,  but  he  was  not  there  to  receive  their  blessing  ;  and 
their  dying  breath  was  spent  in  supplications  to  the  good 
Shepherd  that  He  might  fold  their  straying  lamb.  The 
officiating  clergyman,  at  the  funeral  of  the  fother,  begged  a 
covenant-keeping  God  to  remember  the  absent  son,  and  to  bless 
this  dispensation  of  Providence  to  his  soul ;  and  many  other 
hearts  were  laboring  whh  heaven  for  the  young  man's  salvation; 
and  He  who  has  respect  to  "the  effectual  fervent  prayer  of 
the  righteous,"  heard  those  petitions  and  reclaimed  that  son. 
It  was  after  a  hard  day's  toil,  on  the  evening  of  the 
day  on  which  his  father  was  buried,  that  that  young  man 
threw  himself  beneath  a  branching  tree  to  repose  for  the 
night.  While  his  eyes  looked  up  through  a  quiet  sky,  and 
peered  into  the  starlight  firmament  above,  suddenly  there 
flashed  upon  his  memory  a  remark  which  his  distant  father 
had  made  to  him  when  a  little  boy,  and  which  had  been  long 
forgotten  until  recalled  that  moment.  One  evening  as  they  were 
sitting  in  the  open  air  the  son  innocently  asked,  "  Father,  how 
can  the  stars  shine  every  night  ?"  He  said,  "  My  son,  God  gives 


190  KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVING. 

them  light ;  and,  if  you  are  a  good  boy,  you  will  one  day 
become  more  beautiful  and  bright  than  yonder  stars."  The 
recollection  of  this  incident  started  a  train  of  reflections  which 
gathered  within  their  range  the  endearments  of  home,  his 
fond  parents,  and  his  own  ingratitude  and  disobedience  ;  and 
his  heart  smote  him,  and  all  the  desolation  and  gloom  of  a 
guilty  soul  came  upon  him,  so  that  he  wrestled  alone  with 
God  in  prayer  until  the  dawn  of  a  new  day  was  breaking 
upon  the  world,  when  also  the  light  of  a  reconciled  Saviour's 
countenance  broke  upon  his  soul,  and  he  leaped  from  the 
earth  with  the  first  exclamations  of  his  new-born  spirit ;  "  My 
father!  my  mother!  I  will  fly  to  their  feet!"  And  he 
did  fly.  Having  hastily  made  the  necessary  preparations,  he 
started  for  home.  But,  alas  for  our  young  friend,  on  the 
very  day  of  his  arrival,  and  only  a  few  hours  previous  to  his 
return,  the  last  parent  had  been  committed  to  the  grave.  As 
he  rushed  into  the  ancient  mansion,  the  weeping  and  sol)bing 
circle  of  brothers  and  sisters  told  him  that  he  was  too  late. 
Where  is  my  father?  my  mother?  not  dead?  They  could 
only  })oint  to  the  village  graveyard,  where  they  had  laid  them. 
And  to  their  graves  he  flew,  and  there,  prostrate  on  their 
newly-made  sepulchres,  he  poured  forth  most  touching  and 
piteous  lamentations.  "O!  that  these  ashes  might  speak  a 
forgiving  word !  O  !  that  they  knew  that  their  disobedient 
son  weeps  tears  of  penitence  upon  their  graves!"  And 
although  he  has  been  eminently  successful  in  his  efforts 
to  acquire  wealth,  and  enjoys  the  confidence  and  esteem  of  a 
large  circle  of  friends,  his  unkindness  to  those  who  so  fondly 


KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVING.  191 

cherished  him,  has  tinged  with  a  melancholy  gloom  all  his 
possessions,  and  imprinted  on  his  brow  a  sadness  so  deep, 
that  no  sunlight  of  earthly  prosperity  will  ever  drive  it  away. 
These  sketches,  drawn  from  incidents  in  real  life,  may  suffice 
to  show  the  importance  of  a  gentle  and  kind  behaviour 
towards  all  with  whom  we  mingle,  and  with  whom  we  are 
associated  in  the  various  relations  of  life. 

Should  these  pages  fall  under  the  eye  of  a  youth  who  has 
broken  through  all  those  tender  ties  and  affectionate  endear- 
ments of  home,  and  gone  out  upon  a  wild  and  sinful  career, 
and  for  whom  a  sorrowing  parent  still  mourns  and  prays,  let 
me  affectionately  urge  him  to  hasten  to  the  feet  of  that  long- 
neglected  and  injured  parent,  and  seek  forgiveness,  and 
amend  his  life  ;  for  the  curse  of  heaven  rests  with  withering 
})ower  upon  filial  disobedience.  Whatever  parents  may 
endure  in  the  shape  of  painful  calamities,  nothing  is  so  crush- 
ino-  and  desolatins  as  the  conviction  that  all  their  anxieties 
and  labors  for  a  beloved  child  are  unrequited  ;  while  it  is  the 
extreme  of  baseness  to  despise  their  warnings,  and  pour  con- 
tempt upon  their  instructions  ;  for  this  is  to  trample  on  their 
hearts  and  then  mock  their  pain.  Or  if  my  reader  is  a 
daughter  that  was  undutiful,  or  a  husband  or  a  wife  that  was 
unfaithful,  let  them  remember  that  every  wrong  inflicted  upon 
a  human  being  carries  within  it  a  reciprocal  force,  which 
becomes  the  more  terrible  the  longer  it  is  in  striking  with  its 
reacting  power  the  heart  from  which  it  sprung;  and  let  them 
hasten  to  the  bleeding  spirit  of  the  injured  one,  and  soothe 
it  with  tears  of  repentance.     For  it  is  far  better  that  such 


192  KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVING. 

should  submit  to  the  most  humiliating  confessions,  than  per- 
mit the  opportunity  of  seeking  pardon  to  pass  away,  and 
utter  their  fruitless  regrets  over  the  dust  of  the  injured. 

But  in  giving  a  more  positive  form  to  the  discussion  of  this 
subject,  I  will  yet  add,  that  this  lesson  of -kindness  to  the 
living  which  the  sepulchre  suggests  is  abundantly  enforced, 
and  its  importance  successfully  established,  by  the  intimations 
of  Providence,  the  example  of  Jesus,  and  the  expressed 
declarations  of  Heaven.  It  is  the  dictate  of  wisdom  always  to 
consult  the  teachings  of  Providence,  and  to  copy  from  the  ex- 
amples of  its  honored  instruments.  And  the  high  estimation  in 
which  God  holds  such  a  disposition  maybe  inferred  from  the 
fad  that  the  most  distinguished  persons  that  ever  lived,  and 
who  were  sent  by  Him  upon  the  most  difficult  and  important 
missions  into  our  world,  were  remarkable  for  their  gentleness. 
Moses,  the  illustrious  leader  and  lawgiver  of  the  Hebrews,  was 
noted  for  his  quiet  spirit.  How  calmly  and  majestically  does  he 
stand  out  to  our  view  on  those  occasions  when  encompassed 
by  a  heated  and  clamorous  multitude,  w-hose  insults  and  re- 
proaches were  poured  upon  his  head !  How  great  is  his 
forbearance  and  meekness,  while  he  listens  to  their  complaints 
and  unreasonable  demands !  Whh  what  ardent  affection 
must  his  heart  have  yearned  over  that  ungrateful  people,  when 
he  appealed  so  touchingly  to  Jehovah  to  spare  them,  and 
rather  blot  him  from  existence  than  not  preserve  that  nation 
which  was  the  ordained  instrumentality  through  which  the 
groat  purposes  of  Divine  mercy  were  to  be  unfalded,  and  the 
constituted  channel  through  which  the  blessings  of  redemp- 
tion were  to  flow  out  upon  a  lost  world  ! 


KINDNESS   TO   THE    LIVING.  193 

Our  blessed  Saviour,  also,  was  gentle  and  kind.  Every- 
thing connected  with  His  incarnation,  His  life.  His  death,  and 
ascension  to  heaven,  wears  an  aspect  of  gentleness.  The 
Kinp"  of  Kings,  whose  advent  might  have  been  made  under 
the  most  imposing  circumstances,  with  millions  of  angels, 
all  dazzling  with  light,  and  heralding  his  descent  to  our  earth 
came  gently  ;  not  with  the  pomp  and  grandeur  of  universal 
empire  didst  Thou  come,  adorable  Redeemer! 

"  Tlinu  wast  born  of  woman  ;  thou  didst  come 
0  Holiest !  to  this  world  of  sin  and  gloom, 
Not  in  thy  dread  omnipotent  array ; 

And  not  by  thunder  strow'd 

Was  thy  tempestuous  road ; 
Nor  indignation  burned  before  thee  on  thy  way. 

But  thee  a  soft  and  naked  child, 

Thy  mother  undefiled, 

In  the  rude  manger  laid  to  rest 

From  off  her  vii-gin  breast. 

The  heavens  were  not  commanded  to  prepare 

A  gorgeous  canopy  of  golden  air, 
Nor  stoop'd  their  lamps  th'  enthroned  fires  on  high ; 

A  single  silent  star 

Came  wand'ring  from  afar, 
Gliding  uncheck'd  and  calm  along  the  liquid  sky ; 

The  Eastern  sages  leading  on. 

As  at  a  kingly  throne. 

To  lay  their  gold  and  odors  sweet 

Before  thy  infant  feet. 

And  when  thou  didst  arise,  thou  didst  not  stand 

With  devastation  in  thy  red  right  hand. 
Plaguing  the  guilty  city's  murtherous  crew  ; 

But  thou  didst  haste  to  meet 

Thy  mother's  coming  feet. 
And  bear  the  words  of  peace  unto  the  faithful  few ; 

Then  calmly,  slowly,  didst  thou  rise 

Into  thy  native  skies ; 

Thy  human  form  dissolved  on  high, 
17  In  its  own  radiancy." 


194  KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVING. 

From  the  period  of  his  birth  to  the  startling  scenes  of 
crucifixion — from  Bethlehem  to  Calvary — we  have  exhibited 
for  our  admiration  a  life  of  unbroken  gentleness.  His  whole 
career  was  so  beautiful  with  goodness,  so  replete  with  all  that 
commands  the  homage  of  the  mind,  so  sublime  and 
unearthly,  that  the  skeptical  Rousseau,  after  he  had  finished 
reading  the  Saviour's  life,  uttered  these  memorable  words : 
"  Can  he  who  is  the  subject  of  this  history  be  himself  a  mere 
man  ?  Was  his  the  tone  of  an  enthusiast,  or  an  ambitious 
sectary  ?  What  sweetness !  What  purity  in  his  manners ! 
What  an  affectino:  gracefulness  in  his  instructions !  What 
sublimity  in  his  maxims !  What  wisdom  in  his  discourses ! 
How  great  the  command  over  his  passions!  Where  is  the 
man,  where  the  philosopher.,  who  could  so  live,  suffer,  and 
die  without  weakness  and  without  ostentation !  If  the  life 
and  death  of  Socrates  were  those  of  a  sage,  the  life  and 
death  of  Jesus  were  those  of  a  God." 

That  God  highly  values  these  traits  in  the  character  of  his 
children  is  manifest  from  the  many  admonitions  in  his  Word 
to  be  meek,  courteous,  gentle,  and  kind.  Christians  are 
exhorted  to  walk  "  with  all  lowliness  and  meekness,  with 
long  suffering,  forbearing  one  another  in  love.  Endeavoring 
to  keep  the  unity  of  the  Spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace."  "  Let 
all  bitterness,  and  wrath,  and  anger,  and  clamor,  and  evil- 
speaking,  be  put  away  from  you,  with  all  malice.  And  be 
ye  kind  one  to  another;  tender-hearted,  forgiving  one  another 
even  as  God,  for  Christ's  sake,  hath  forgiven  you."  "Bear 
ye  one  another's  burdens,  and  so  fulfil  the  law  of  Christ." 


KINDNESS   TO    THE    LIVING.  195 

And  the  law  of  Christ  is  a  law  of  love  or  kindness.  The 
Lord  has  also  given  many  gracious  promises  to  those  who 
cultivate  such  a  spirit.  "  He  will  beautify  the  meek  with 
salvation."  "Blessed  are  the  meek,  for  they  shall  inherit  the 
earth"  "  Blessed  are  the  peacemakers,  for  they  shall  be 
called  the  children  of  God."  These  exhortations  might  be 
multiplied  to  almost  any  extent,  clearly  showing  what  the 
Apostle  Paul  declares,  "  That  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit  is  in 
the  sight  of  God  an  ornament  of  great  price." 

And  if  there  were  no  commands  or  laws  in  the  Holy  Word 
bearing  on  this  subject,  the  influence  of  kindness  is  so 
obviously  blessed,  as  to  teach  all  men  the  importance  of  its 
uniform  practice.  The  person  who  deals  gently  with  all  who 
come  within  the  circle  of  his  friendship,  is  amply  compen- 
sated in  the  happiness  he  derives  from  making  others  happy. 
The  sentiment  in  that  popular  song — "  Be  kind  to  the  loved 
ones  at  home,"  is  as  just  as  it  is  beautiful.  And  never  do 
we  feel  it  so  impressively,  as  when  one  of  those  "  loved 
ones  "  is  removed  by  death,  and  we  are  called  to  follow  his 
remains  to  the  silent  grave.  There  by  the  sepulchre  we  shall 
rejoice  even  in  our  sorrow,  if  the  testimony  of  our  conscience 
assures  us  that  we  have  faithfully  and  kindly  discharged  the 
offices  of  friendship  and  affection  towards  the  departed.  It 
will  be  an  exercise  that  richly  repays,  often  to  examine  our 
conduct  amid  the  endearing  relations  of  home,  in  the  light  of 
that  solemn  hour  when  all  earthly  ties  shall  be  sundered  ; 
and  to  order  all  our  actions  in  siglit  of  the  open  grave  whither 
we,  and  those  around  us,  are  going ;  that,  to  the  distress  w'hich 


196  KINDNESS   TO   THE   LIVING. 

will  then  wring  our  hearts,  there  may  not  be  added  the 
bitterest  of  all  reflections,  that  we  wounded  by  unkindness  the 
friend  we  mourn.  In  all  the  relations  of  life  should  we  strive 
to  exhibit  a  quiet  disposition  and  a  kind  bearing  towards  our 
fellow-creatures.  In  the  family,  every  heart  should  throb 
with  kindness.  The  domestic  circle  may  sometimes  become 
a  scene  of  trials  and  sufferings.  Afflictions  and  misfortunes 
may  fall  upon  us,  or  overtake  those  we  love,  and  obscure 
our  prospects ;  but  however  painful  such  visitations  are,  they 
are  never  intolerable  while  the  light  of  gentle  spirits  illumines 
the  home.  And  if  some  member  of  the  household  is  smitten 
with  a  painful  malady,  which  is  slowly  consuming  his 
strength,  and  working  its  way  onward  to  the  citadel  of  life, 
while  it  induces  a  complaining  disposition  or  fretfulness  of 
spirit  in  the  sufferer,  still  it  is  our  duty  to  bear  with  him 
patiently,  and  to  minister  with  cheerfulness  to  his  increasing 
wants.  And  if  days  and  nights  wear  heavily  away  in  our 
watchings  by  the  sick-bed,  yet  should  we  betray  no  impa- 
tience ;  for  it  will  be  a  precious  consolation  when  weeping 
over  the  lifeless  form,  to  know  that  we  fondly  cherished  him 
to  the  last. 

The  same  spirit  should  accompany  us  into  all  the  other 
walks  of  social  beings.  And  as  gentleness  diffuses  itself  over 
society,  it  will  displace  suspicion  and  distrust,  those  canker- 
worms  that  sap  the  life  and  purity  of  communities  where  they 
exist,  while  it  restores  and  strengthens  confidence  between 
men.  It  is  also  closely  allied  to  a  spirit  of  disinterested 
benevolence,   and  therefore   raises   man  above   the   narrow 


KINDNESS   TO   THE   LIVING,  197 

enclosures  of  sectionalism  and  sectarianism,  and  prompts  him 
to  such  actions  as  will  diffuse  their  blessings  far  and  wide. 
And  such  a  disposition  will  incline  us  to  treat  tenderly  those 
unfortunate  poor,  who  call  at  our  doors  for  a  morsel  of  bread, 
or  a  little  pecuniary  aid.  If  you  would  be  "  eyes  to  the 
blind,  and  feet  to  the  lame;"  if  the  widow  and  the  orphan 
are  to  find  a  valuable  friend  in  you,  sympathy  must  accom- 
pany your  beneficence  to  them.  If  you  feed  the  hungry, 
clothe  the  naked,  and  distribute  to  the  necessities  of  the 
unfortunate,  do  it  kindly.  Let  them  see  that  it  gives  you 
pleasure  to  befriend  them ;  and  the  value  of  your  charity  will 
be  greatly  enhanced.  Believe  it,  a  charity  bestowed  wdth  an 
air  of  gentleness,  and  with  words  of  encouragement  and 
of  hope,  will  be  doubly  blessed.  Your  kind  words  and 
pleasant  looks  may  call  into  play  feelings  to  which  they  have 
long  been  strangers ;  for  they  are  mostly  received  coldly,  and 
sent  away  abruptly,  as  if  their  presence  could  not  long  be 
endured ;  so  that  even  the  little  which  they  receive  does  not 
lighten  their  burden ;  because  they  discovered  nothing  in 
their  benefactors  to  assure  them  that  they  are  in  unison  with 
sympathising  hearts,  and  therefore  their  weary  and  worn 
spirits  are  not  soothed.  Be  kind  to  those  who  differ  from 
you  in  opinion  and  in  faith.  Others  enjoy  the  same  right  of 
opinion  which  we  claim  for  ourselves.  They  may  be  as 
good,  perhaps  far  better  in  the  sight  of  God,  than  those  who 
would  pronounce  harsh  judgment  upon  them.  Let  not  angry 
words  or  harsh  feelings  chill  the  glov/  of  love,  or  quench  the 
flame  of  friendship.  Suffer  not  selfishness  to  drive  your  mind 
17* 


198  KINDNESS    TO    THE    LIVING. 

and  heart  from  others,  but  unite  them  to  thyself  by  bonds  of 
intellectual  and  moral  affinity.  As  a  Christian,  make  mani- 
fest in  your  life  the  spirit  and  principles  of  Him  who  loved 
those  who  hated  Him,  and  who,  even  amid  the  throes  of  his 
agony  upon  the  cross,  uttered  the  unearthly  prayer — "  Father 
forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do."  A  gentle 
life  will  be  followed  by  a  gentle  death.  For  he  that  has 
"  ruled  his  spirit,"  and  delighted  in  peace,  shall  pass  away 
softly  as  the  drop  mingles  back  into  the  ocean,  and  quietly 
as  the  beam  melts  away  into  the  glory  of  perfect  day. 

"  Be  kind  to  each  othei'  in  sorrow  and  grief, 
'Tis  sympathy  only  can  give  thee  relief, 
Dividing  our  sorrow,  but  lessens  our  pain, 
Be  kind  to  each  other  —  affliction  is  vain. 
Be  kind  to  each  other  when  sickness  has  come. 
Let  nothing  but  smiles  ever  visit  your  home ; 
Encourage  and  succor,  and  soothe  the  distressed, 
Be  kind  to  each  other  and  still  thou  art  blest. 
Be  kind  to  each  other  through  life  to  its  close, 
And  when  thou  art  freed  from  its  wishes  and  woes. 
When  freed  from  life's  tears,  from  its  sorrows  and  sighs, 
Be  kind  to  each  other  and  meet  in  the  skies." 

As  one  who,  in  common  with  others  has  been  wounded,  it 
may  be,  by  erring  shafts  from  the  quiver  of  friendship,  or 
arrows  shot  by  the  spirit  of  envy  and  detraction,  I  deem  it 
not  inappropriate  here  to  say,  that  they  are  all  buried  so 
deeply,  that  no  resurrection  awaits  them  on  earth,  and  so 
softened  by  the  dews  of  forgiveness,  that  they  may  moulder 
into  the  dust  of  oblivion  before  the  judgment-day.  And  at 
peace  as  I  humbly  trust  w^ith  God  and  man,  I  mean  so  to  live, 
that   the    monument  which  I  may  build,  w^hether  lowly  or 


KINDNESS   TO    THE   LIVING.  199 

lofty,  shall  be  composed  of  the  jasper,  the  chrysolite,  the 
topaz  and  amethyst  brought  from  the  Gospel's  mine,  and  the 
top-stone  quarried  from  the  mount  of  Calvary  —  a  polished 
block  of  Christian  love,  inscribed  with  the  prayer  of  my 
Lord,  that  trembled  from  his  death-quivering  lips —  "  Father 
forgive  them,  for  they  knew  not  what  they  did?" 


CHAPTER  TENTH. 

POSTHUMOUS  FAME  — THE  SEPULCHRE  INSTRUCTS  US 
HOW  TO  LIVE,  SO  AS  TO  BE  REMEMBERED  WHEN 
DEAD. 


"  Lives  of  the  great  and  good  remind  us, 

We  can  make  our  lives  sublime ; 
And  departing  leave  behind  us, 

Footsteps  on  the  sands  of  time  — 
Footprints  that  perchance  another, 

Sailing  o'er  life's  troubled  main; 
A  forlorn  and  shipwrecked  brother, 

Seeing,  shall  take  heart  again." 


It  is  not  a  noble  mind  that  despises  an  honorable  fame. 
Poets  have  labored  to  sing  it  out  of  existence,  and  essayists 
have  written  learnedly  as  to  its  vanity,  but  it  is  questionable 
whether  they  succeeded  in  convincing  any  considerable  portion 
of  mankind  that  their  affected  indifference  about  its  posses- 
sion was  real.  A  far  more  probable  and  perhaps  just  conclu- 
sion which  their  readers  would  draw,  is,  that  the  desire  of 
the  thing  which  they  denounce  as  unworthy  of  human  pur- 
suit, constituted  the  soul  of  their  exertions.  It  has  been 
pictured  as  a  beautiful  bubble  which  dissolves  as  soon  as  it 
is  grasped  —  a  light  aerial  thing  that  ceases  with  the  breath 
which  creates  it.     And  one  whose  notes  are  often  sublime, 

(200) 


POSTHUMOUS   FAME.  201 

and  rise  in  grandeur  as  they  flow  in  unison  with  the  theme 
of  the  soul's  immortality,  joined  company  with  less  noble 
minds,  when  his  harp  discoursed  : — 

"  What  so  foolish  as  the  chase  of  fame  ? 
How  vain  the  prize  !  how  impotent  our  aim  ! 
For  what  are  men  who  grasp  at  praise  sublime. 
But  bubbles  on  the  rapid  stream  of  time  • 
That  rise  and  fall,  that  swell  and  are  no  more, 
Born  and  forgot  ten  thousand  in  an  hour." 

Minds  which  never  rise  to  the  comprehension  of  the 
beautiful  and  the  exalted,  and  whose  conceptions  never 
compass  the  grandeur  of  their  being,  but  range  along  that 
lowly  path  which  begins  in  the  cradle  and  terminates  in  the 
grave,  have  sometimes  scouted  the  idea  of  its  reality,  and 
uttered  the  idiot's  laugh  at  its  utility.  Satire,  wit,  philosophy, 
and  religion,  have  at  different  times  been  marshalled  into 
service  for  its  extermination.  And  if  this  crusade  has  some- 
times been  conducted  by  the  disappointed  and  misanthropic, 
the  virtuous  and  the  wise  have  also  occasionally  lent  their 
aid,  that,  if  possible,  this  noble  element  of  power  and  success 
in  the  human  mind  might  be  annihilated.  But  the  presump- 
tion is  as  legitimate  as  it  is  charitable,  that  the  great  and  the 
excellent  who  have  labored  to  discourage  its  pursuit,  waged 
their  warfare  not  against  an  honorable  fame,  but  against  that 
which  was  baptized  in  its  name,  but  was  of  mean  parentage, 
and  frail  as  the  breath  which  gave  it  existence  —  a  vicious 
counterfeit  of  the  valuable  coin,  that  enriched  no  one  with  a 
blessing.  Those  only  who  are  afraid  to  live,  could  wish  to 
die   unmourned,   unwept,   and  unsung.      There    are    none, 


202  POSTHUMOUS   FAME. 

unless  they  have  quenched  the  noblest  aspirations  of  their 
souls,  to  whom  the  thought  of  falling  into  utter  forgetfulness 
is  not  abhorrent.  The  spirit  no  more  shudders  at  the  idea 
of  annihilation,  than  it  shrinks  appalled  from  the  prospect  of 
oblivion. 

To  be  thrown  aside  as  the  lifeless  clod — to  be  cut  off  from 
the  sympathies  of  this  animated  world  —  to  have  our  images 
effaced  from  the  minds  of  the  living  —  all  recollection  of  us 
blotted  from  human  memory  —  with  no  golden  .thought  — 
no  living  virtue  —  no  breathing  bond  of  endearment  to  bind 
us  to  those  gentle  spirits  who  survive  us,  and  to  those  warm 
hearts  which  will  throb  around  this  earth  when  ours  are  pulse- 
less ;  such  reflections  would  be  at  war  with  all  the  elements  in 
our  nature  which  stamp  the  impress  of  endless  duration  upon 
our  being.  Born  for  immortality,  all  the  yearnings  and  tenden- 
cies which  thrill  through  the  framework  of  our  spiritual 
organization  toil  towards  this  high  destiny.  And  as  God 
has  given  to  all  things  which  He  has  formed  the  property  of 
self-perpetuation,  so  has  He  also  endowed  the  mind  with 
capabilities  through  which  the  memory  of  its  existence  in  this 
world  may  be  prolonged  for  years  after  it  has  been  trans- 
ferred to  that  glorious  field,  where  the  sphere  of  its  exertion 
is  boundless  as  eternity.  The  influence  of  its  intellectual 
creations  and  its  moral  offspring  may  flame  along  its  path- 
way through  life,  and  so  incorporate  itself  with  the  mass  of 
human  mind,  that  the  light  of  its  reflected  glow  will  assist  to 
illumine  the  world  for  generations  to  come.  It  is  a  tendency 
m  our  nature  which  should  be  fostered,  not  crushed;  culti- 


POSTHUMOUS    FAME.  203 

vated,  and  not  destroyed — it  is  not  to  be  repressed,  but  aided 
and  judiciously  directed  in  its  out-goings  ;  for  it  is  the  motive 
power  of  the  soul,  and  lies  at  the  foundation  of  all  that 
is  noble,  good,  and  great.  This  desire  for  a  worthy  posthu- 
mous remembrance  was  the  matrix  in  which  were  generated 
the  conceptions  of  those  political,  social,  and  moral  organiza- 
tions, which  have  made  the  world  radiant  with  their  blessings, 
and  advanced  the  race  far  in  its  progress  towards  perfection. 
It  is  the  womb  in  which  all  those  intellectual  creations,  that 
have  enriched  us  with  the  wealth  of  science,  the  treasures  of 
philosophy,  the  benefits  of  law,  and  the  blessings  of  ethics, 
were  warmed  into  life.  It  is  therefore  not  unreasonable  to 
maintain,  that  an  honorable  fame  is  a  legitimate  object  of 
human  pursuit,  and  worthy  of  the  aspiration  of  those  who 
have  just  conceptions  of  the  dignity  and  destiny  of  man. 
Ambrose  uttered  the  sentiment  of  the  great  and  good  when 
he  said :  "  For  mine  own  part,  I  wish  so  to  order  my  con- 
versation in  the  world,  that  I  may  live  when  I  am  dead  in 
the  affections  of  the  best,  and  leave  an  honorable  testimony 
in  the  consciences  of  the  worst ;  that  I  may  oppress  none 
and  do  good  to  all ;  that  I  may  neither  be  ashamed  to  live 
nor  afraid  to  die." 

But  what  is  an  honorable  fame  ?  I  answer,  that  approba- 
tion and  veneration  which  mankind  accord  to  an  individual 
whose  life  and  labors  have  resulted  in  the  elevation  and 
happiness  of  the  race,  and  contributed  to  the  advancement 
of  the  Divine  glory.  It  is  that  distinction  which  is  associated 
with  acts  which  either  immediately  or  remotely  promote  the 


204  POSTHUMOUS   FAME. 

prosperity  and  permanency  of  the  State,  or  the  progresi= 
and  the  glory  of  the  Church  ; — with  labors  performed,  whether 
intellectual,  moral,  or  manual,  which  are  followed  with  visible 
good  to  the  public.  For  whether  it  is  the  laying  of  the 
foundation  of  an  empire,  the  making  and  administration  of 
law,  or  the  doing  of  that  which  adds  strength  and  beauty  to 
the  social  structure,  the  authors  or  promoters  of  such 
deeds  are  worthy  of  profound  regard.  It  must  not  be  sup- 
posed that  an  honorable  posthumous  fame  is  the  product  only 
of  elevated  stations,  of  rare  intellectual  gifts,  of  valuable 
discoveries,  or  extraordinary  achievements,  which  enrol  the 
name  of  the  individual  associated  with  them  on  the  durable 
records  of  history.  It  need  not  be  carved  out  by  the  sword, 
nor  purchased  with  blood  ;  for  if  those  germs  of  immortality 
which  are  found  in  every  human  bosom  are  but  fostered  and 
cultivated,  each  one  may  rear  for  himself  an  imperishable 
monument  of  virtues  that  will  always  command  the  esteem 
of  mankind.  The  extent  of  its  range  is  not  essential  to  its 
existence  ;  a  world-wide  circle  need  not  be  filled  by  those 
who  possess  it.  The  gem  that  glitters  far  down  in  the  un- 
fathomable depths  of  the  ocean,  and  flames  only  to  the  eye 
of  Him  who  formed  it,  is  intrinsically  as  excellent  as  the 
diamond  which  sparkles  in  the  imperial  crown,  and  as  valu- 
able in  the  estimation  of  its  producer  as  the  more  conspicu- 
ous one  that  glows  on  the  brow  in  which  reside  the  destinies 
of  a  kingdom.  Wherever  the  sphere  of  our  exertions  may 
lie,  in  the  State  or  in  the  Church,  whether  in  humble  or 
exalted  life,  man  carries  within  himself  the  needful  resources 


POSTHUMOUS   FAME.  205 

to  perpetuate  his  principles  and  memory.  The  world  has, 
perhaps,  never  known  such  deep  degeneracy  as  wholly  to 
withhold  its  admiration  from  those  who  distinguished  them- 
selves in  labors  to  benefit  mankind.  And,  accordingly,  we 
find  that  among  all  nations  was  merit  rewarded  ;  and  in  all 
ages  have  those  received  expressions  of  public  approbation 
whose  labors  for  the  general  good  were  crowned  with 
success.  A  nation's  heroes  and  a  nation's  benefactors  are 
enthroned  side  by  side  in  her  chronicles,  and  their  merit  is 
proclaimed  by  the  erection  of  monuments  of  durable 
materials.  Egypt  has  her  pyramids ;  and  Greece  and  Rome 
have  their  memorials  of  intellectual  triumphs ;  and  from  the 
ruins  of  Nineveh  shafts  and  columns  are  dug  up,  bearing 
records  of  the  great  and  useful  men  who  were  identified  with 
the  leading  events  of  their  age.  Such  always  has  been,  and 
such  always  will  be,  the  sentiment  of  mankind. 

It  is  one  among  the  loftiest  instincts  of  our  nature,  to 
admire  and  love  that  which  is  exalted  and  great.  The 
beauty  of  the  landscape,  the  magnificence  of  the  river,  and 
the  vastness  of  the  sea,  kindle  in  the  mind  elevated  and 
pleasurable  emotions.  But,  amid  all  that  is  great  and  glow- 
ing in  the  outspread  gorgeousness  of  the  universe,  there  is  no 
object  which  awakens  such  thrilling  and  unearthly  joy  within 
us,  as  a  human  mind,  girded  with  strength  and  robed  with 
the  majesty  of  breathing  thought.  Its  ethereal  glow  is  im- 
parted and  transfused  through  our  being,  until  a  wild  ecstacy 
dances  along  every  fibre  of  our  spiritual  framework,  and 
willing  or  unwilling,  commands  our  homage.  There  is  a 
18 


206  POSTHUMOUS   FAME. 

beauty  in  the  winged  cloud,  and  in  the  circling  wave — there 
is  a  glory  in  the  quiet  stars,  and  in  the  flaming  firmament  — 
there  is  a  power  in  those  utterances  which  come  from  the 
awful  shi'ines  of  nature  —  there  is  a  grandeur  in  the  storm- 
tossed  ocean  ;  but  there  is  a  higher  beauty,  a  more  ravishing 
glory,  a  more  subduing  power,  and  a  sublimer  grandeur 
thrown  around  a  great  intellect  laboring  with  a  theme  of 
corresponding  dignity.  Whether  it  be  the  mind  of  a  Web- 
ster rising  in  the  greatness  of  his  intellectual  strength,  far 
above  the  range  of  ordinary  thought,  scattering  from  its 
faculties  mountain  obstacles  which  lie  in  the  wa^'  to  its 
conclusions,  as  the  lion  shakes  the  dew-drop  from  his  mane ; 
bursting  all  the  clogs  and  fetters  which  bind  inferior  capaci- 
ties to  earth  and  self,  and  moving  amid  the  peerless  splendor 
of  that  sphere  of  deliberation,  where  the  interests  of  party 
and  the  individual  are  shut  out  by  purity,  by  honor,  by 
patriotism,  and  right — or  whether  it  be  the  mind  of  a 
MassTilon,  picturing  the  temptations,  the  follies,  and  vices  of 
a  licentious  court,  and  pealing  into  the  ears  of  his  proud 
monarch  the  cutting  declaration  —  "Sire,  God  alone  is 
great!"  we  are  constrained  to  do  homage  to  the  truly  great, 
whenever  and  wherever  the  force  of  their  genius  is  recalled. 
I  refer  to  these  eminent  examples,  simply  to  illustrate  the 
point,  that  the  laws  and  impulses  of  our  being  make  it  a 
Kecessary  pleasure  to  honor  the  intellectually  great.  And 
the  same  elements  in  our  nature  demand  a  like  tribute  to 
the  truly  good.  The  instincts  of  humanity  in  this  particular 
must  be  regarded  as  true  and  right,  because  sanctioned  by 


POSTHUMOUS   FAME.  207 

reason,  and  endorsed  by  the  universal  consent  of  mankind. 
And  \Yhere  intellectual  endowments  are  associated  with  moral 
goodness,  their  possessor  will  bequeath  to  his  posterity  a 
name  clothed  with  a  fraCTant  remembrance.  The  misofuided 
genius  may  link  his  name  with  intellectual  creations  that  flash 
with  a  bewilderino"  Hare  through  all  comino:  time  ;  but  if  his 
life  was  productive  of  no  good,  and  his  talents  were  conse- 
crated to  evil,  his  fame  can  only  serve  as  a  beacon-light, 
flickering  on  the  midnight  cliff  where  he  wrecked  his  hopes, 
to  warn  other  voyagers  of  the  rocks  which  have  destroyed  a 
soul.  But  that  those  who  were  benefactors  of  their  race,  will, 
while  the  world  stands,  beneficially  influence  immortal  minds, 
is  susceptible  of  the  clearest  demonstration,  The  names  of 
Luther  and  Washington  will  live  forever!  Their  tombs  are 
pilgrim  shrines,  whither  men  from  all  climes,  kindreds,  and 
tongues  resort,  to  do  reverence  to  the  ashes  of  the  distin- 
guished dead.  And  what  magic  power  attracts  these  admi- 
ring crowds  around  their  mouldering  dust?  Manifesdy  the 
recollection  of  their  achievements.  The  one  was  that 
"  solitary  monk  who  shook  the  world,"  unchained  the  Bible, 
and  conducted  the  church  from  a  superstitious  vassalage  into 
light  and  freedom ;  the  other  broke  from  our  nation's  limbs 
the  shackles  of  oppression,  and  delivered  us  from  a  painful 
bondage.  Therefore  are  the  graves  of  these  fathers  of  civil 
and  religious  freedom  hallowed  ground,  because  consecrated 
by  the  tears  of  nations,  and  enshrined  in  the  affections  of 
mankind.  There  may  the  victims  of  political  and  spiritual 
despotism  rekindle  their  hopes.     And  to  these  shrines  do 


208  POSTHUMOUS   FAME. 

those  repair  who  are  groaning  under  painful  oppression, 
to  catch  from  those  ashes  that  inspiration  \Yhich  made  them 
a  terror  to  all  tyrants.  Around  these  honored  tombs  do 
the  yearnings  of  laboring  nations  gather,  and  from  these 
centres  radiate  those  influences  which  kindled  a  quickening 
hope  in  the  crushed  and  bleeding  hearts  of  those,  who  now 
convulse  the  kingdoms  of  earth  by  lifting  from  the  deep 
foundations  of  centuries  and  overturning  the  thrones  of  hoary 
despotism. 

And  why  are  the  tombs  of  eminent  civilians  and  ecclesi- 
astics, and  numerous  other  citizens  who  were  distinguished 
for  those  qualities  of  mind  and  heart  which  made  them  use- 
ful, often  strewed  with  fresh  memorials  of  undying  love  ?  Is 
it  not  because  the  man  and  the  benefactor  are  remembered 
in  his  deeds  ?  Behold  those  crowds  who  throng  the  cemetery 
to  commune  with  the  dead  !  See  how  they  stand  in  groups 
around  certain  graves,  and  direct  the  attention  of  children  to 
the  decorated  mounds!  There  is  a  reason  for  it;  for  there 
sleep  those  who  baptized  the  world  with  the  influences  of  a 
holy  life,  and  who  contributed  to  the  intellectual,  historical, 
or  moral  wealth  of  the  nation.  Therefore  do  parents  recount 
the  deeds  of  those  to  their  children,  and  lay  open  to  their 
view  the  road  which  conducts  to  an  honorable  distinction. 
And  wouldest  thou  be  remembered  when  the  cumberers  of 
earth  are  forgotten,  and  cherished  after  tlie  winds  of  many 
years  have  sighed  their  requiems  over  thy  grass-grown  sepul- 
chre ?  then  let  it  be  thy  care  now  to  build  thy  character  of 
solid  virtues,  and  thou  wilt  have  a  monument  more  durable 


POSTHUMOUS   FAME.  209 

than  marble  or  brass.  Let  thy  name  live  in  useful  enter- 
prises, in  investments  for  the  poor  of  thy  community,  for  the 
instruction  and  salvation  of  the  destitute,  and  it  will  go  with 
thy  benefactions  and  write  itself  in  every  heart  befriended, 
and  engrave  itself  on  the  memory  of  those  souls  who  will 
make  mention  before  the  throne  of  God  of  the  hand  that 
snatched  them  from  devouring  flames.  Bring  thy  treasures 
of  mind,  of  influence,  of  silver  and  gold,  and  lay  them  at 
the  feet  of  the  great  Redeemer,  saying,  Son  of  God,  take 
these  thine  own  gifts,  bathe  them  with  thy  blood,  and  send 
them  on  their  mission  for  thy  honor ;  and  so  shall  your  name 
live  through  the  infinite  circle  of  thy  Saviour's  glory.  All 
the  venerated  dead  enshrined  themselves  in  the  hearts  of  tlieir 
contemporaries  by  lives  of  usefulness,  and  commended  them- 
selves to  the  Divine  favor  by  their  virtues  ;  and,  therefore, 
their  deeds,  like  "the  spikenard  of  the  woman  in  tlie  gospel, 
shall  yet  fill  the  world  with  their  fragrance."  If,  therefore, 
an  honorable  posthumous  fame  may  be  obtained  by  moral 
goodness  as  well  as  by  intellectual  greatness,  then  is  it  possi- 
ble for  all  to  secure  for  themselves  that  kind  of  remembrance 
most  valued  among  men,  and  which,  like  the  precious  gem, 
never  tarnishes  with  age.  It  is  peculiar  to  no  sphere,  but 
may  grow  in  private  or  in  public,  in  humble  or  exalted  life. 
It  demands  not  the  intellect  of  a  Webster,  nor  the  eloquence 
of  a  Clay,  to  earn  it.  They  are  among  the  illustrious 
departed ;  but  not  the  only  gems  which  sparkle  in  our 
nation's  diadem,  nor  the  only  stars  that  shine  in  that  constel- 
lation of  worthies,  ^Yhose  light  guides  others  in  the  way  to 
18* 


210  POSTHUMOUS    FAME. 

glory.  There  may  not  be  many  the  range  of  whose  earthly 
fame  is  so  extensive ;  but,  if  they  are  just  men,  their 
"  memory  will  be  blessed."  The  individual  who  leads  an 
upright  and  holy  life  imparts  an  influence  to  the  world  which 
will  never  die. 

Man,  as  he  is  sometimes  viewed,  is  frail  and  evanescent. 
"  Compared  with  many  visible  objects,  man  is  ephemeral. 
Compared  with  the  sun  that  shines  over  him  —  the  air  which 
fans  him  —  the  ocean  on  which  he  floats,  his  '  duration  is 
swift  decay.'  And  there  is  much  pensiveness  in  the  thought 
of  his  own  frailty.  To  look  out,  as  we  were  last  week  look- 
ing, on  the  plenitude  of  summer  —  to  view  the  field  in  its 
loveliness  and  the  forest  in  its  gorgeous  glory  —  to  inhale 
the  fragrance  of  roses  mingling  with  earth's  ripeness,  and 
think  how  soon  our  eyes  must  shut  forever  on  that  landscape 
—  how  soon  aromatic  breezes  and  blushing  flowers  shall  stir 
no  animation  in  our  tombs ;  in  such  contemplations  there  is 
a  deep  pathos,  and  to  surrender  the  spirit  to  their  habitual 
mastery  would  be  to  live  a  life  of  constant  melancholy." 
Truly  would  such  meditations,  not  associated  with  the 
durable  elements  in  man,  beget  those  sweetly  sad  emotions 
which  are  breathed  in  Tennyson's  "  Farewell  to  the  Brook." 

"  Flow  down  cold  rivulet  to  the  sea, 
Thy  tribute  wave  deliver  ; 
No  more  by  thee  my  steps  shall  be, 
Forever  and  forever. 

"  But  here  will  sigh  thine  alder-tree, 
And  here  thine  aspen  shiver ; 
And  here  by  thee  will  hum  the  bee, 
Forever  and  forever. 


POSTHUMOUS   FAME.  211 

"A  thousand  suns  will  stream  on  thee, 
A  thousand  moons  will  quiver; 
But  not  by  thee  my  steps  shall  be, 
Forever  and  forever." 

But  the  virtuous  and  great  will  live  in  the  remembrance 
and  homage  of  mankind.  If  indestructibility  is  a  property 
of  matter,  so  is  it  also  of  thoughts,  of  words,  and  of  deeds. 
Every  exalted  sentiment,  every  pious  word,  every  charitable 
act,  carries  within  itself  a  procreative  power.  And  as  the 
seed  only  requires  a  soil,  air,  moisture,  and  light,  to  repro- 
duce unnumbered  harvests  of  its  kind,  so  are  the  spiritual 
emanations  of  man  freighted  with  the  germs  of  other  harvests 
which  shall  grow  on  the  intellectual  and  moral  fields  of 
humanity.  It  is  impossible  that  a  man  should  live  without 
exerting  a  determining  influence  upon  others,  inasmuch  as 
his  actions  do  not,  and  cannot,  terminate  upon  himself. 
As  the  body  of  one  who  is  wasting  away  under  a  pestilen- 
tial disease  emits  an  invisible  but  offensive  odor,  and  imparts 
to  the  atmosphere  such  a  noxious  taint  that  the  visitor  to  his 
chamber  cannot  long  remain  without  contracting  the  malady, 
so  does  the  depraved  man  send  out  an  unseen,  but  felt 
influence,  that  vitiates  and  destroys  souls.  In  accordance 
with  the  same  law  does  the  holy  man  throw  off  an  impercep- 
tible moral  power,  which  enlarges  its  circle  of  influence  and 
multiplies  in  its  blessings  to  the  end  of  time.  None,  how- 
ever humble  his  mission,  leaves  the  world  as  he  found  it :  he 
gives  it  the  impress  of  his  character,  and  vitalizes  it  to  a 
greater  or  less  extent  with  his  own  spirit ;  so  that  long 
after  he  is  gathered  to  his  fathers,  the  desires  which  once 


212  POSTHUMOUS    FAME. 

throbbed  only  in  his  bosom,  and  the  principles  that  once  con- 
trolled only  his  mind,  will  have  become  a  part  of  those  moral 
influences  which  will  shape  the  destiny  of  generations  to 
come. 

The  truth  of  this  statement  was  obscurely  present  to  the 
consciousness  of  those  even  upon  whom  the  light  of  revela- 
tion had  not  dawned.  The  theology  of  the  ancient  Egyptians 
recognized  a  vhal  and  indestructible  principle  in  virtue.  But 
among  all  those  who  were  chiefly  indebted  to  the  light  of 
reason  and  philosophical  conjecture  for  their  knowledge, 
none  have  expressed  themselves  with  such  beauty  and  sub- 
limity as  the  Parsis.  Helvetius  informs  us,  that  at  the  burial 
of  a  distinguished  citizen,  a  funeral  oration  was  pronounced, 
and  the  subjoined  service  uttered  over  the  tomb  of  the 
departed.  "  0,  earth !  0 !  common  mother  of  human 
beings,  take  back  what  to  thee  appertaineth  of  the  body  of 
this  hero ;  let  the  aqueous  particles  that  flowed  in  his  veins 
exhale  into  the  air,  and  falling  in  rain  on  the  mountains, 
replenish  the  streams,  fertilize  the  plains,  and  roll  back  to  the 
abyss  of  the  ocean  whence  they  proceeded !  Let  the  fire 
concentrated  in  this  body  rejoin  the  heavenly  orb,  the  source 
of  light  and  heat !  Let  the  air  confined  in  his  members, 
burst  its  prison,  and  be  diffused  by  the  mundane  space !  And 
lastly  thou,  0,  breath  of  life,  if  perchance  thou  art  of  a  nature 
separate  from  all  others,  return  to  the  unknown  being  that 
produced  thee  ;  or,  if  thou  art  only  a  mixture  of  various  ele- 
ments, mayst  thou,  after  being  dispersed  in  the  universe, 
again  assemble  thy  scattered  particles,  to  form  another  citizen 


POSTHUMOUS   FAME.  213 

as  virtuous  as  this  has  beeir."  Is  there  not,  in  these  sublime 
images  and  noble  sentiments  of  this  people,  a  dim  recognition 
of  the  fact,  that  the  spiritual  influences  thrown  off  from  man's 
intellectual  and  moral  natures  perish  not,  but  go  out  upon 
their  endless  mission  of  benefactions  to  mankind.  The  same 
thought  is  expressed  in  the  forcible  and  eloquent  tribute  of 
our  own  Webster,  to  the  memory  of  one  of  his  associate  and 
rival  senators.  "  A  superior  and  commanding  intellect,  and 
truly  great  man,  when  heaven  vouchsafes  so  rare  a  gift,  is  not 
a  temporary  flame,  burning  bright  for  a  while,  and  then 
expiring,  giving  place  to  returning  darkness.  It  is  rather  a 
spark  of  fervent  heat  as  well  as  radiant  light,  with  power  to 
enkindle  the  common  mass  of  human  mind;  so  that  when 
it  glimmers  in  its  own  decay,  and  finally  goes  out  in  death,  no 
night  follows,  but  it  leaves  the  world  all  light,  all  on  fire, 
from  the  potent  contact  of  its  own  spirit.  Bacon  died,  but 
the  human  understanding,  roused  by  the  touch  of  his  miracu- 
lous wand  to  a  perception  of  the  true  philosophy,  and  the  just 
mode  of  inquiring  after  truth,  has  kept  on  its  course  success- 
fully and  gloriously.  Newton  died,  yet  the  courses  of  the 
spheres  are  still  known,  and  they  yet  move  on  in  the  orbits 
which  he  saw  and  described  for  them  in  the  infinity  of 
space." 

And  if  such  is  the  force  and  destiny  of  a  massive  human 
intellect,  that  it  incorporates  itself  with  the  aggregate  mind 
of  earth,  living  from  age  to  age  in  breathing  thoughts  and 
exalted  sentiments,  is  it  not  equally  true,  that  moral  goodness 
has  the   elements  of  an  immortality  co-enduring  with  the 


214  POSTHUMOUS    FAME. 

products  of  the  understanding?  Aye,  the  greatest  purely 
intellectual  offspring,  even  of  Webster,  would  be  destined  to 
perish,  if  not  sooner,  in  the  fires  of  a  consuming  world,  that 
will  reduce  all  monuments,  records,  and  histories  to  ashes, 
had  he  not  bound  by  a  living  faith  his  fleeting  existence  to 
the  Immutable  and  Eternal.  He  was  never  greater  than 
when  he  comprehended  and  confessed  his  weakness,  and 
clung  to  his  Saviour,  uttering  his  conviction  of  the  truth  of 
God's  promises  in  his  own  language  — "  That  rod  !  that 
rod,"— "That  stafT!  that  staff"  — "That  is  what  they 
want  —  that  is  what  they  want,"  in  passing  from  this  to  that 
nobler  existence  which  opens  in  a  boundless  eternity.  His 
moral  goodness  is  the  element  of  perpetuity  in  his  world  — 
wide,  his  honorable  and  everlasting  fame. 

And  how  much  more  than  the  Parsis  to  whom  I  referred, 
may  we  from  whom  Christianity  has  lifted  the  veil  of  darkness 
and  doubt,  and  in  whom  it  imparts  its  own  undying  exis- 
tence to  all  the  moral  products  that  flow  from  it,  say  to  those 
virtues  which  adorned  the  character  of  a  deceased  friend,  and 
to  the  influences  which  have  radiated  from  him  who  was  "  a 
light  of  the  world  ;"  go,  ye  offspring  of  the  gospel  and  the 
Holy  Ghost,  on  your  errands  of  blessing  through  the  empire 
of  charity,  and  unite  in  other  souls,  and  when  the  earth  has 
been  renovated,  humanity  recovered  and  beautified  with 
salvation,  return  to  the  infinite  fountain  of  all  ^ood,  from 
whom  you  proceeded. 

A  marked  and  beautiful  feature  in  the  economy  of  the 
Divine  government  is,  that  those  blessings  which  are  abso- 


POSTHUMOUS   FAME.  215 

lately  essential  to  the  happiness  and  perfection  of  our  being, 
are  indiscriminately  bestowed  upon  all,  while  others  that  may 
or  may  not  be  made  subservient  to  the  welfare  of  an  immortal 
spirit,  are  given  to  the  few.  For  example  :  the  air,  the  sun- 
shine, and  water  are  indispensable  to  our  existence,  and 
these  are  furnished  freely  and  abundantly  to  all ;  whereas, 
those  rare  intellectual  gifts  that  elevate  their  possessor  far 
above  the  masses,  are  vouchsafed  to  the  few,  because  not 
necessary  to  the  attainment  of  happiness.  While,  therefore, 
intellectual  eminence  is  reached  by  a  comparatively  small 
number,  the  invaluable  blessings  comprehended  in  a  life  of 
honorable  actions,  of  benevolence  and  holiness,  may  be 
enjoyed  as  abundantly  by  all,  as  the  air  we  breathe  and  the 
light  which  falls  so  profusely  around  us.  The  disciple 
"  whom  Jesus  loved,"  was  doubtless  intellectually  inferior  to 
some  of  the  others,  and  that  which  won  for  him  a  higher 
place  in  the  affections  of  the  Master,  was  unquestionably  his 
moral  goodness.  Being  naturally  of  an  amiable  disposition, 
the  powers  of  his  soul  were  harmoniously  developed  under 
the  genial  warmth  of  the  Saviour's  love,  until  all  the  graces 
of  a  lofty  excellence  blended  and  glowed  in  his  character. 
And  while  it  would  neither  be  desirable,  nor  tend  to  the 
general  good,  were  all  men  endowed  with  like  mental 
capacities,  it  is  important  to  the  glory  of  God  that  all  may 
attain  that  style  of  moral  excellence  which  exalts  man  into 
sympathy  with  the  noble  and  good  of  all  ages,  and  to  fellow- 
ship with  Jehovah.  It  is  not  needful  to  the  excellence, 
harmony,  and  efficiency  of  the  organism  of  nature,  that  there 


216  POSTHUMOUS   FAME. 

should  be  a  greater  number  of  high  mountains,  large  rivers, 
lakes,  and  seas,  than  those  which  the  Almighty  hand  has 
fashioned ;  and  it  is  not  in  themselves,  but  as  they  are  set  ofi" 
by  hills  of  a  less  altitude,  streams  of  a  smaller  compass,  and 
all  these  by  plains  and  valleys,  that  we  have  beauty,  because 
variety.  And  not  only  is  this  diversity  in  the  material  world 
essential  to  the  comeliness  of  the  picture  vv'hich  it  offers  to  the 
eye,  but  the  mutual  dependence  that  subsists  between  the 
diiferent  parts  which  make  up  the  creation,  gives  utility  to 
the  entire  work.  In  like  manner  has  God  ordained  in  human 
society  a  diversity  of  gifts  and  vocations,  sustaining  such 
relations  to  each  other,  and  so  blended  in  their  interests,  that 
when  they  fulfil  their  respective  missions,  they  reflect  the 
wisdom  of  their  Sovereign  and  promote  the  happiness  of  all. 
And  while  He  has  assigned  to  the  few  the  grandeur  of  the 
mountain,  to  some  the  magnificence  of  the  river,  and  to 
others  the  lowliness  and  fragrance  of  the  violet  and  lily,  He 
sheds  upon  all  the  light  of  His  countenance  and  the  dews  of 
His  grace,  that  all  may  flourish  in  the  beauty  of  holiness,  and 
reflect  back  to  the  giver  an  image  of  His  own  loveliness. 

It  is,  therefore,  manifest  that  all  may  become  useful,  virtu- 
ous, and  acceptable  to  God ;  and  if  such  be  their  privilege, 
then  may  all  so  live  as  to  be  affectionately  remembered  when 
dead.  And  this  should  be  one  of  the  great  objects  of  life 
with  every  individual.  Contempt  for  the  community  which 
is  the  sphere  of  our  exertions,  and  of  mankind  in  general,  is 
no  evidence  of  v»"isdom  or  talent,  but  proof  of  ignorance  or 
baseness.     For  man  cannot  disregard  the  esteem  of  others 


POSTHUMOUS   FAME.  217 

until  he  has  first  divested  himself  of  those  honorable  senti- 
ments and  feelings  of  self-respect,  which  cannot  be  lost  with- 
out vitiating  the  character.  And  while  there  are  not  many 
who  may  aspire  to  that  illustrious  distinction,  that  extensive 
and  brilliant  renown  which  is  properly  the  inheritance  only 
of  a  few,  I  would  say  to  the  youth  of  industry  and  talent : 
Start  in  the  race  of  life  with  the  determination  to  rise  to  the 
highest  point  to  which  the  energy  and  capacity  of  your  mind 
will  carry  you.  When  you  have  reached  that  elevation,  you 
will  be  contented,  for  you  have  filled  the  measure  of  your 
duty.  And  although  no  imperial  crown  shall  glitter  upon  these 
brows,  and  no  obsequious  courtiers  surround  us  in  the  atti- 
tude of  menials,  we  may  so  endear  ourselves  to  the  circles 
in  which  we  move,  and  so  incorporate  our  enterprise, 
benevolence,  and  purity,  in  the  body  of  the  social  structure, 
that  a  fragrant  remembrance  will  survive  us  when  gone  to 
wear  a  fadeless  diadem  of  glory.  The  man  of  affluence  may 
transmit  his  name  to  the  latest  posterity  by  the  erection  of 
hospitals,  the  endowing  of  institutions  of  learning,  and  by 
building  houses  of  worship.  William  Penn,  by  a  prudent 
reservation  of  land  in  Delaware,  affords  facilities  for  intellect- 
ual culture  to  the  present  generation.  A  gentleman  in 
England  has  recently  devoted  eighty  thousand  pounds  to  the 
erection  of  Christian  chapels;  and  our  own  LawTence,  and 
many  others,  have  left  memorials  of  their  enlightened  zeal 
and  benevolent  spirit,  in  making  provision  for  the  wants- of 
the  indigent  and  friendless.  That  man  who  bends  his  exer 
tions  to  the  elevation  of  his  race  cannot  be  neglected  or  for 
19 


218  POSTHUMOUS   FAME. 

gotten.  And  it  should  be  a  source  of  profound  gratitude  that 
the  instincts  of  nature  prompt  us  to  honor  the  memory  of  the 
useful  and  great.  For  it  is  this  appreciation  of  merit  on  the  part 
of  mankind  that  encourages  the  young  to  imitate  the  example 
of  those  whose  honors  they  would  share.  I  regard,  there- 
fore, the  discharge  of  duties  and  the  exertion  of  a  man's 
faculties  in  such  a  manner  as  to  secure  for  him  an  honorable 
fame,  perfectly  legitimate,  and  in  accordance  with  the  lessons 
of  Christianity.  The  gospel  is  not  designed  to  give  new 
attributes  to  our  nature,  nor  to  throw  out  of  our  constitution 
the  elements  which  it  there  finds,  and  especially  one  so 
potent  that  its  extinction  would  cause  every  enterprise  to 
flag,  and  the  wheels  of  progress  to  stand  still ;  but  its  office 
is  to  purify  all  the  generous  impulses  of  our  nature,  and  lead 
them  forth  attired  with  the  ornaments  of  Divine  grace,  and 
direct  them  to  such  efforts  as  will  benefit  man  and  glorify 
God. 

As  the  truly  good  or  great  man  desires  only  such  posthu- 
mous remembrance  as  is  fitted  to  incite  others  to  exertions 
that  may  result  in  permanent  good  to  mankind,  so  in  what- 
ever offspring  of  his  mind  or  heart  his  memory  is  perpetuated, 
he  accomplishes  the  end  of  his  toils.  He  would  live  in  the 
affections  of  others  not  from  motives  of  vanity,  but  that  the 
recollections  of  his  struggles  and  triumphs  may  become  to 
some  other  weary  travellers  who  follow^  in  the  race  of  life, 
what  the  achievements  of  the  good  of  former  times  are  to 
him  —  a  means  of  refreshment  and  encouragement  when 
oppressed  with  the  burdens  of  his  vocation. 


POSTHUMOUS   FAME.  219 

Who  that  has  ever  struggled  with  difficulties  until  dis- 
pirited because  everything  transpired  adversely  to  his  hopes, 
and  the  wheels  of  human  machinery  seemed  out  of  joint,  so 
that  its  music  grated  harshly  on  his  sensibilities,  and  then 
took  down  from  the  shelf  the  Holy  Book,  or  some  other 
record  which  brought  him  into  communion  with  men  who 
had  travelled  the  same  path,  and  overcome  those  very 
obstacles  that  brought  him  to  a  stand-still,  has  not  gathered 
strength  to  start  afresh  and  successfully  keep  on  in  that  road 
which  had  appeared  to  him  in  that  moment  of  depression 
swept  by  torments  and  obstructed  by  mountains  ?  Who  can 
estimate  the  number  of  those  who  have  been  taught  the 
omnipotent  energy  of  faith,  by  the  recorded  trial  o^  Abraham  ? 
How  many  young  men  has  the  example  of  the  inflexibly 
chaste  Hebrew  youth  who  w'as  tempted  to  commit  crime  in 
the  house  of  Potiphar,  kept  back  from  shame  and  "  the  path 
of  the  destroyer?"  With  what  child-like  and  unshaken  trust 
in  the  goodness  of  an  overruling  Providence,  does  the  history 
of  Elijah  and  that  of  the  widow  of  Sarepta  inspire  those  w'ho 
are  under  the  hard  pressures  of  poverty?  What  millions 
have  found  in  the  experience  of  David,  so  touchingly  des- 
cribed in  his  Psalms,  the  inward  distresses,  sorrows  and  con- 
flicts of  their  ow^n  souls,  and  by  treading  in  his  footsteps  have 
been  conducted  to  the  sources  of  healing,  and  to  the  fountains 
of  spiritual  joy  ?  Where  is  the  sufferer  who  may  not  profit 
in  the  school  of  Job  ?  Who  has  not  approached  with  a 
holier  boldness  and  a  stronger  confidence  the  throne  of  grace 
after   communion  with  Hannah,  with  Joshua,  and  Daniel  ? 


220  posTiiuMors  fame. 

And  who  knows  how  much  the  example  of  Moses  may  have 
contributed  to  the  success  of  our  Washington,  who  trusted  in 
God  and  the  righteousness  of  our  cause?  If  we  need  models 
of  purity,  of  benevolence,  and  of  patriotism  to  animate  us, 
the  records  of  the  past  are  full  of  illustrious  names.  That 
cloud  of  witnesses  of  the  holy  departed  the  Apostle  exhorts 
us  to  regard  as  patterns  of  excellence,  and  we  should  as 
reluctantly  attempt  to  strike  one  of  these  from  the  moral 
firmament,  as  we  would  one  of  the  luminaries  which  shines 
in  the  canopy  of  heaven ;  for  they  relieve  the  world  of  its 
moral  gloom,  as  the  stars  do  the  earth  of  natural  darkness. 
And  in  like  manner  are  those  important  to  the  living  who  did 
not  rise  to  the  intellectual  and  moral  elevation  of  Patriarchs, 
Prophets,  and  Apostles,  but  who  served  God  in  an  honorable 
capacity. 

Individuals  who  have  acquired  large  wealth,  are  mostly 
possessed  of  fine  intellectual  capacities,  which  make  them 
comprehensive  and  far-reaching  in  their  calculations  ;  and  if 
they  are  the  followers  of  Him  "  who  was  rich,  but  for  our 
sakes  became  poor,"  they  will  in  their  recognition  of  the  true 
source  of  their  prosperity,  feel  their  high  responsibility,  and 
make  such  a  disposition  of  a  portion  of  their  property,  that  it 
may  flow  down  through  all  time  in  streams  of  blessing,  and 
shed  a  moral  grandeur  over  the  wide  bosom  of  eternity.  An 
individual  establishes  and  sustains  a  mission  in  a  heathen 
land,  and  multitudes  will  rise  around  the  throne  of  judgment 
♦o  pronounce  him  blessed.  The  Sabbath  School  System  was 
once  a  conception,  as  the  universe  was  once  a  thought,  and 


POSTHUMOUS   FAME.  221 

the  originator  has  linked  his  name  with  a  brilliant  immortality. 
Thousands  of  immortal  minds  have  been  raised  from  a  foul 
obscurity,  and  transferred  from  paths  of  ruin  to  the  path  of 
peace,  by  the  "  Ragged  School ;"  but  it  also  sprang  from  a 
benevolent  mind.  What  a  monument  of  enlightened  zeal 
and  well-directed  piety  is  the  Bible  Society  !  Its  founders 
have  long  since  gone  to  their  reward,  but  their  instrumentality 
sheds  lio-ht  and  salvation  over  our  sin-stricken  earth.  The 
ample  charities  and  generous  aid  of  affluent  Christians  have 
given  to  the  country  brilliant  intellects,  which  now  shine  on 
the  watch-towers  of  freedom  and  the  walls  of  Zion,  presiding 
over  the  interests  of  religion,  and  controlling  the  destinies  of 
the  nation.  And  are  not  those  whose  generous  instrumen- 
tality has  gemmed  our  national  history  with  some  of  its  bright- 
est jewels,  by  furnishing  the  world  patriotic  statesmen,  gifted 
artists,  and  eloquent  divines,  worthy  of  everlasting  remem- 
brance ?  Aye,  they  cannot  be  forgotten — their  names  shall  not 
die !  No !  not  as  long  as  thought  survives,  for  their  fame 
will  be  co-enduring  with  the  immortality  of  that  intellectual 
and  moral  wealth  which  they  were  instrumental  in  pouring 
upon  the  altars  of  their  country  and  its  Divine  Sovereign. 

There  are  those,  however,  whose  inability  to  do  something 
great  inclines  them  to  do  nothing  at  all.  This  is  a  mistaken 
view  of  duty.  God's  care  has  accompanied  the  widow's 
mite,  so  that  it  has  produced  its  millions.  He  looks  wiiii 
approbation  not  only  on  the  will  to  do  good,  bul  alx) 
furnishes  the  link  to  bind  us  in  that  chain  of  inlhu'iues  which 
shall  yet  regenerate  the  world.  That  little  congregational 
19* 


222  POSTHUMOUS   FAME. 

circle  of  ladies  toiling  for  the  poor  at  home  and  abroad,  is 
known  in  heaven,  and  contemplated  with  interest  by  angels 
as  co-workers  with  God  and  His  holy  ones  in  the  great  work 
of  redemption.  Many  schools  are  sustained  in  heathen  lands 
by  the  earnings  of  these  societies.  These  cast  their  bread 
upon  the  waters  with  regrets  that  they  can  sow  so  small  a 
harvest ;  but  the  revelations  of  the  final  day  will  show  that 
these  little  efforts  have  wrought  stupendous  results.  The 
little  copper  and  silver  of  the  missionary-box  will  yet  be  con- 
templated in  the  wealth  of  eternal  glory.  Courage,  ye  little 
bands,  so  often  tempted  to  discontinue  your  efforts ;  for  those 
stitches  will  make  white  robes  for  heathen  souls,  and  the 
Holy  Spirit  will  transform  those  penny  contributions  into 
crowns  of  gold,  and  your  tears  into  sparkling  gems,  to  adorn 
those  who  are  the  objects  of  your  charity.  All  can  do  some- 
thing to  keep  their  memories  green.  If  not  possessed  of  the 
needful  wealth  to  do  a  work  which  demands  a  large  outlay, 
unite  with  kindred  spirits  like  the  drops  which  form  the 
rivulet,  and  you  will  create  a  stream  that  will  widen  its 
channel  and  multiply  in  its  blessings  as  it  flows.  Do  some- 
thing for  your  country,  for  the  race,  and  for  Christ.  Have  you 
a  child  ?  You  can  consecrate  it  to  God,  and  train  it  for  useful- 
ness. If  you  have  none,  take  an  orphan  from  the  Lord's 
family  of  poor ;  bestow  upon  it  the  tenderness  of  a  mother, 
or  the  care  of  a  father,  and  you  will  live  in  it ;  and  in  the 
day  of  retribution  Jesus  will  say,  "Inasmuch  as  ye  have 
done  this  unto  one  of  these  little  ones,  ye  have  done  it  unto 
me."     If  you  can  do  no  more,  leave  to  your  posterity  a 


POSTHUMOUS   FAME.  223 

pious  example,  and  you  will  bequeath  to  mankind  a  legacy 
more  valuable  than  gold,  yea,  than  much  fine  gold," 
unaccompanied  with  moral  excellence.  For  as  the  influence 
of  none  is  so  insignificant  that  he  may  not  mould  some 
character  after  the  pattern  of  his  own,  so  every  one  who  con- 
secrates himself  to  God  through  our  instrumentality  consti- 
tutes a  living  monument  to  our  memory.  We  die,  but  our 
characters  live  as  representatives  of  our  vices  or  virtues.  Of 
the  first  martyr  on  holy  record  it  is  written  :  "  He  being 
dead,  yet  speaketh."  "Enoch  walked  with  God,"  and  his 
example  encourages  others  to  toil  for  the  same  honorable 
distinction.  We  may  secure  a  "  good  name,  which  is  more 
precious  than  rubies"  —  a  name  whose  effulgence  may  fill 
the  canopy  of  exalted  life,  or  diffuse  its  fragrance  around 
the  walks  of  the  lowly  ;  and,  like  the  flower  hid  by  ranker 
grasses,  its  sweetness  will  reveal  the  place  of  its  seclusion. 
Faith,  hope,  and  charity,  uniting  in  human  character,  invest 
it  with  sublime  energy,  and  cause  its  influence  to  vibrate 
along  those  golden  chords  of  love  which  hold  in  unison 
Jehovah  with  the  subjects  of  His  empire.  Thus  a  pure  heart 
exults  not  merely  in  its  conscious  elevation  into  the  sympa- 
thies of  the  intelligent  universe,  but  itself  becomes  a  fountain 
where  waters  of  life  spring  up  and  flow  out  to  gladden  a 
weary  world.  The  granite  rock  yields  particle  after  particle, 
as  its  just  tribute  to  the  great  law  of  mutation,  until  the 
immense  pile  has  dissolved  like  snow;  but  a  good  name 
stands  unimpaired  through  this  process  of  change,  for  its 
foundations  repose  upon  the  rock  of  immuta'ule  truth,  and, 


224  ,      POSTHUMOUS   FAME. 

built  of  virtues  as  imperishable  as  their  Author,  the  noble 
structure  will  not  be  enfeebled  by  the  weight  and  moss  of 
centuries,  but  partake  more  and  more  of  the  changeless 
nature  of  that  eternity  into  which  it  rises  sublimely  and 
gloriously. 

Such  are  the  properties  of  an  honorable  posthumous  fame, 
that  each  one  may  possess  it  to  the  full  measure  of  his  capa- 
city. And  while  the  exalted  statesman  lives  in,  and  is 
honored  for  the  creation  of  those  laws  which  are  the  sinews 
of  the  body  politic,  and  for  those  moral  qualities  with  which 
he  healthfully  animates  the  commonwealth,  the  gentle  dews 
of  a  mother's  love  may  shine  forever  as  gems  of  richest  lustre 
in  her  child  hard  by  the  throne  of  God,  and,  after  the  records 
on  adamant  shall  have  melted  in  the  fires  of  the  last  day, 
those  lessons  written  by  the  potent  touch  of  her  influence  on 
immortal  minds,  will  remain  bright  and  glorious.  It  is  a 
prize  which  w^ould  more  than  compensate  the  sleepless  toil 
of  ten  thousand  ages.  It  is  a  boon  worthy  of  the  great  God 
who  offers  it.  Enter  then  in  earnest  upon  its  pursuit  —  fill, 
if  you  can,  earth  and  heaven  with  your  fame,  but  have  a  care 
that  it  is  honorable.  Drop  along  the  walks  of  daily  life,  kind 
words  and  noble  deeds  ;  for  these  are  the  blocks  which  must 
compose  the  pile  that  is  to  point  to  coming  travellers  the 
path  to  glory.  Somewhere  there  is  a  tomb  with  this  inscrip- 
tion— "  What  I  have  saved,  I  have  lost ;  what  I  gave  away, 
I  have."  And  this  will  one  day  be  the  experience  of  all, 
and  true  not  only  of  their  charities,  but  also  of  the  wealth  of 
their  virtues.     For  only  that  life  which  imparts  its  blessing 


POSTHUMOUS   FAME.  225 

to  others,   is    crowned  with  peace  ;    those    only  who  have 
"  served  their  day  and  generation  according  to  the  will  of 
God,"  will  be  kindly  cherished  when  they  rest  from  their 
labors.     There  is  animation  in  the  thought,  that  when  others 
shall  linger   around   our   tombs,  they  may  recall  judicious 
counsels,  faithful  instructions,  and  noble  deeds ;  and  that  our 
very  ashes  may  kindle  hope  and  energy  in  minds  unborn. 
There  is  a  glory  in  every  conquest  which  the  Christian  makes 
over  the  world  and  his  corruptions,  that  I  see  nowhere  else. 
The  interests  that  enter  into  the  conflict  are  so  commanding 
in  their  issues,  the  enemies  so  formidable,  the  consequences 
of  failure  so  tremendous,  and  the  blessings  of  success  so 
immeasurably  great,  that  while  I  watch  his  struggles,  all  the 
sympathies  of  my  being  kindle  into  burning,  and  I  could 
shout   with    all    the    intensity    of    my    soul    into    his    ears, 
courage  my  brother,  life,  Eternal  Life  is  the  prize.     The 
mind  is  always' glorious  in  lofty  action  or  sublime  contempla- 
tion, but  never  glows  with  such  an  unearthly  grandeur,  as 
when  she  hopes,  prays,  and  toils  for  eternity.     Laboring  in 
unison  with  the  Eternal,  with  her  eye  fixed  on  a  resplendent 
imimortality,  she  gathers  strength  and  glory  as  chord  after 
chord  which  binds  the  noble  captive  to  earth  is  snapped, 
until  the  last  that  detains  her  is  severed,  and  she  ascends 
amid  the  hallelujahs  of  ministering  angels  to  the  bosom  of 
God.     It  is  announced  for  the  encouragement  of  the  good 
and  great — "  Then  they  that  feared  the  Lord  spake  often  one 
to    another ;    and   the   Lord   hearkened   and   heard   it,  and 
a  book  of  remembrance  was  written  before  him,  for  them  that 


226  POSTHUMOUS    FAME. 

feared  the  Lord,  and  that  thought  upon  his  name.  And  they 
shall  be  mine,  saith  the  Lord,  in  that  day  when  I  make  up 
my  jewels,  and  I  will  spare  them  as  a  man  that  spareth  his 
own  son  that  serveth  him."  And  may  we  all  rise  to  that 
sublime  view  of  our  nature  and  destiny,  that  in  all  our  pur- 
suits after  inferior  good,  we  may  breathe  the  utterances  of  a 
gifted  poet : 

"  Attempt  how  vain, 
With  things  of  earthly  sort,  with  aught  but  God, 
With  aught  but  moral  excellence,  truth  and  love  — 
To  satisfy  and  fill  the  immortal  soul ! 
To  satisfy  the  ocean  with  a  drop ; 
To  marry  immortality  to  death, 
And  with  the  unsubstantial  shade  of  time 
To  fill  the  embrace  of  all  eternity." 

And  under  the  force  of  this  conviction  we  will  seek  the 
light  of  the  Divine  favor,  and,  united  to  Him,  we  shall  be 
enshrined  in  the  being  of  God,  and  live  forever. 


CHAPTER  ELEVENTH. 

THE  REPOSE  OP  THE  HOLY  DEAD. 

There  is  no  place  where  Christianity  glows  with  such  a 
Divine  lustre,  and  where  its  consolations  are  so  precious  and 
sublime,  as  at  the  grave  where  we  commit  a  cherished  one  to 
rest.  Its  hopes  loom  out  upon  the  gloom  that  oppresses  the 
heart  there  as  the  sun  when  it  bursts  full-orbed  through  the 
dark  storm-clouds  which  obscure  the  canopy  of  heaven. 
However  much  we  may  have  pondered  the  mysteries  of  the 
gospel  and  appreciated  its  lessons,  we  can  never  understand 
its  priceless  value  so  fully  as  when  its  light  bursts  through 
our  clouds  of  dark  calamity,  and  spans  them  with  the  bow 
of  promise,  as  its  rays  are  reflected  by  our  tears.  We 
may  have  often  heard  and  read  the  blessed  announce- 
ment "  that  Christ  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light," 
but  there  we  feel  it.  We  may  have  admired  that  charming 
promise,  "  When  thou  goest  through  the  waters  I  wmII  be  with 
thee,  and  through  the  rivers  they  shall  not  overflow  thee  ; 
when  thou  walkest  through  the  fire  thou  shalt  not  be  burnt, 
neither  shall  the  flame  kindle  upon  thee.  For  I  am  the  Lord 
thy  God,  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  thy  Savii)ur."  But,  inef- 
fably more  precious  did  we  find  this  promise  in  our  deep 
afflictions,  when  our  souls  felt  the  conscious  presence  and 

(227) 


228  THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD. 

support  of  the  everlasting  arms  underneath  us.  As  the  rose 
gives  out  its  most  delicious  fragrance  when  it  is  crushed,  so 
do  the  promises  of  God  breathe  their  healing  balm  most 
effectually  when  pressed  upon  hearts  broken  with  sorrow. 
We  do  not  marvel  that  the  poor  bereaved  Pagan  should  be 
inconsolable  ;  for  there  is  no  power  in  his  religion  to  disperse 
the  clouds  which  hang  around  the  grave  —  all  is  shrouded  in 
impenetrable  gloom.  No  voice  utters  words  of  hope  from 
the  mysterious  spirit- world.  No  messenger  comes  to  him, 
to  tell  of  a  bright  and  glorious  future.  To  him  eternity  is  a 
boundless,  dark  expanse,  where  the  light  of  reason  goes  out, 
and  no  star  of  hope  burns.  His  religion  contains  not  one 
lesson  to  relieve  and  comfort  his  grief-stricken  heart ;  it  has 
nothing  wherewith  to  reconcile  him  to  his  loss.  He  may 
call  Socrates  and  Plato  to  his  aid,  and  consult  the  maxims  of 
other  philosophers,  but  they  will  leave  him  as  hopeless  and 
miserable  as  ever.  They  may,  indeed,  exhort  him  to  exer- 
cise submission  to  an  inevitable  necessity,  and  extol  forti- 
tude under  trials  as  an  exalted  virtue ;  but,  what  is  there 
in  all  this  to  cure  heart-sorrow  ?  —  what  are  all  these 
sublime  teachings  of  the  ancient  sages  worth,  in  the  hour 
of  bereavement  and  death  ?  They  comfort  no  mourner 
—  they  lift  no  sorrow  from  the  heart  —  they  soothe  or  heal 
no  anguished  spirit.  It  is  true  their  mythologies  speak  of 
Elysian  fields,  ornamented  with  all  that  can  gratify  the  senses  ; 
but  notwithstanding  the  wild  and  romantic  pictures  with 
which  glowing  imaginations  have  peopled  the  future  home  of 
the  heathen,  tlrere  is  nothing  real — nothing  to  fill  the  soul 


THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD.         229 

with  assurance  of  immortal  good.  For  whatever  fields  of 
science,  of  literature,  and  of  philosophy,  we  may  explore, 
we  shall  find  no  plant  that  grows  in  these  possessed  of  such 
virtues  as  quiet  a  distressed  bosom ;  for  only  the  balm  of 
Gilead  can  mollify  and  heal  the  wounds  of  a  stricken  soul 
But  whatever  causes  there  may  be  for  the  distress  of  the 
poor  benighted  and  bereaved  heathen,  these  should  not  disturb 
the  Christian.  His  sky  may  be  shrouded  in  thick  dark- 
ness, but  the  star  of  Bethlehem  still  shines  in  the  midst  of  it. 
Storms  of  affliction  may  beat  long  and  loud  around  him  ;  but 
as  wave  after  wave  breaks  over  his  soul,  he  hears  the  accents 
of  a  well-known  voice,  "  Be  not  afraid,  it  is  I."  The  tomb 
may  have  its  gloom,  but  light  falls  from  the  cross  to  illumine 
the  dark  mansion. 

Thus  far,  I  have  endeavored  to  offer  to  the  consideration 
of  the  reader  those  lessons  of  instruction  which  the  sepulchre 
is  so  eminently  fitted  to  suggest,  and  which,  because  invested 
with  the  solemnities  of  the  final  hour,  should  be  impressively 
felt.  I  trust  that  the  fact  has  been  established,  that,  while  it 
bereaves  us  of  our  treasures,  it  compensates  us  in  some 
measure  for  the  losses  sustained  by  the  instruction  it  affords. 
But  while  it  is  capable  of  enriching  the  mind  with  lessons  of 
wisdom,  and  of  inciting  us  to  increased  exertions  in  all  that 
can  elevate  and  dignify  the  soul,  and  qualify  it  for  the  exalted 
destiny  which  lies  before  it,  the  sepulchre  also  offers  lessons, 
which  are  consolatory  and  soothing  to  the  distressed.  To 
those  whose  lot  is  cast  amid  the  influences  of  Christianity, 
and  who  are  permitted  to  contemplate  all  things  under  the' 
20 


230         THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD. 

light  of  revelation,  there  can  be  nothing  which  may  not 
become  to  them  a  messenger  of  good.  Let  us  then  devoutly 
interrogate  the  sepulchre  in  the  light,  and  with  the  assistance 
of  the  holy  oracles  of  God;  —  that  Book  which  is  truly  said 
to  be  "  Heaven's  best  gift  and  surest  guide  to  man." 

"  Most  vrondrous  book  !  Briglit  candle  of  the  Lord ! 
Star  of  eternity  !   only  star 
By  -which  the  bark  of  man  could  navigate 
The  sea  of  life,  and  gain  the  coast  of  bliss 
Securely !  only  star  ■which  rose  on  time, 
And,  on  its  dark  and  troubled  billows,  still, 
As  generation  drifting  swiftly  by. 
Succeeded  generation,  threw  a  ray 
Of  Heaven's  own  light,  and  to  the  hills  of  God, 
The  eternal  hills,  pointed  the  sinner's  eye. 
This  Book,  this  holy  book,  on  every  line 
Marked  with  the  seal  of  high  divinity ; 
On  every  leaf  bedew'd  with  drops  of  love 
Divine,  and  with  th'  eternal  heraldry 
And  signature  of  God  Almighty  stamped 
From  first  to  last,  this  ray  of  sacred  light. 
This  lamp  from  off  the  everlasting  throne, 
Mercy  took  down,  and  in  the  night  of  time 
Stood  casting  on  the  dark  her  gracious  bow; 
And  evermore  beseeching  men  with  tears 
And  earnest  sighs,  to  read,  believe,  and  live." 

This  star  burns  so  brilliantly  in  our  moral  firmament,  that  it 
sheds  light  into  the  tomb,  and  causes  the  ashes  of  our 
departed  to  glow  with  immortality.  It  directs  our  thoughts 
from  the  lowliness  of  the  sepulchre,  to  those  hills  of  life  which 
are  radiant  with  immortal  bloom,  and  from  the  darkness  of 
the  grave  to  the  ineffable  glory  of  the  world  to  come.  Aye, 
it  is  the  Bible,  with  its  revelations  of  another  and  a  higher 


THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD.         231 

state  of  existence,  and  its  records  of  Him  who  went  down 
into  the  chambers  of  death,  and  in  the  domain  of  the  king  of 
terrors  won  for  himself  and  his  followers  a  conquest  over  the 
dreaded  tyrant,  that  makes  the  grave  to  believers  a  pleasant 
retreat  from  the  turmoils  of  earth,  and  a  place  of  peaceful 
repose  from  their  labors.  The  Bible  has  endowed  the  torao 
with  speech,  so  tliat  its  utterances  to  bereaved  souls  are 
messages  of  consolation.  Gathered  in  thought  around  the 
still  but  venerable  abodes  of  our  loved  ones,  we  hear  from 
the  awful  shrines  of  the  dead,  as  the  first  lesson  of  consolation, 
that  the  inmates  of  the  sepulchre  rest  in  peace. 

"  There  is  a  calm  for  those  who  weep, 
A  rest  for  weary  pilgrims  found  ; 
They  softly  lie,  and  sweetly  sleep, 
Low  in  the  ground." 

Who  has  not  felt  a  charm  like  that  of  angel  melodies 
floating  over  his  soul,  as  he  stood  by  the  open  grave  into 
which  the  remains  of  a  weary  pilgrim  had  been  laid, 
and  over  which  the  words  were  uttered,  "  Blessed  are 
the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord ;  yea,  saith  the  spirit, 
from  henceforth ;  for  they  rest  from  their  labors  and 
their  works  do  follow  them."  As  he  was  not  united  to 
us  by  any  closer  ties  than  those  of  humanity  and  religion,  the 
heart  is  not  steeped  in  that  grief  which  overwhelms  the  soul 
when  a  family  bond  is  broken,  and  therefore  feels  more  im- 
pressively and  deeply  the  force  of  this  blessed  assurance. 
The  mind  of  the  spectator  is  just  sufficiently  solemnized,  and 
is  in  that  quiet  calm,  when  the  finer  sensibilities  of  our  nature 


232         THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD. 

vibrate  in  sweet  response  to  lofty  and  touching  sentiments. 
And  to  one  in  such  a  franae,  the  words  quoted  fall  upon  his 
placid  spirit  as  if  spoken  fresh  from  the  throne  of  God,  and 
still  redolent  with  the  soft  and  grief-quieting  influences  of 
heaven.  The  contrast  is  so  marked — the  change  so  impres- 
sive! But  yesterday  I  stood  by  the  bed  where  lay  in  anguish 
this  brother  mortal.  I  held  his  fevered  hand  in  mine  ;  1 
moistened  his  parched  lips,  and  cooled  his  burning  brow, 
I  still  see  the  imploring  look  for  help,  while  disease  ran  like 
liquid  fire  through  his  veins,  and  his  whole  frame  quivered 
with  anguish  as  he  cried,  "  Lord,  hasten  my  redemption,  and 
give  me  rest."  And  now  the  harp,  that  groaned  discordant 
notes  of  pain,  lies  shattered,  but  will  again  be  strung  to 
discourse  the  lofty  strains  of  redeeming  love  in  heaven. 

Yes,  they  are  truly  blessed  who  have  overcome  and  fallen 
asleep  in  Jesus.  And  there  are  moments  of  sore  pressure, 
of  weariness  and  of  pain,  when  we  could  wish  the  last  con- 
flict over,  that  we  might  also  repose  in  the  peaceful  grave. 
It  is  true,  that  human  nature  clings  fondly  to  life,  and  even 
makes  us  willing  to  exist  amid  the  wrecks  of  our  happiness 
and  hopes,  under  the  pressure  of  poverty  and  sickness, 
uncared  for,  and  unbefriended  ;  but  it  does  not,  therefore, 
follow  that  such  would  not  be  happier  if  resting  in  the  tomb. 
For  this  love  of  life  is  a  law  of  our  being,  wisely  ordained  for 
the  good  of  society,  and  designed  to  prevent  persons  from 
rushing  unbidden  into  the  presence  of  a  holy  God.  But  is  not 
this  reluctance  to  surrender  our  breath  also  intended  to  sub- 
serve a  yet  higher  purpose  ?     Are  not  the  operations  of  this 


THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD.        233 

law,  which  holds  man  with  such  a  firm  grasp  to  this  fleeting 
existence,  premonitions,  or  echoes  of  his  immortality  ?  And 
are  not  the  dying,  themselves,  conscious  that  the  dissolution 
of  the  soul  and  body  terminates  not  the  existence  of  the 
spirit?  If  net,  what  mean  those  outcries  of  terror,  or  those 
rapturous  utterances  which  break  from  the  pillows  of  the 
dying!  0!  it  is  the  unfitness,  or  fitness,  of  individuals  to 
endure  those  eternal  realities  which  break  in  their  terrific  or 
sublime  grandeur  upon  the  vision  of  the  soul,  that  causes 
those  scenes  of  distress  and  joy  which  we  sometimes  witness 
in  the  chambers  of  death.  And,  while  there  is  nothing  to 
console  in  the  case  of  unhappy  departures  but  the  conviction 
that  a  just  Sovereign  is  on  the  throne,  and  that  they  pass  into 
the  hands  of  a  merciful  God,  there  is  every  thing  to  assure  us 
of  the  blessedness  of  those  who  have  fallen  asleep  in  Jesus. 
The  relations  which  joined  them  to  a  laboring  and  suffering 
world  are  all  dissolved,  and  they  have  uttered  their  eternal 
farewell  to  sickness,  sorrow,  and  pain.  They  now  enjoy 
unclouded  peace  and  undisturbed  tranquillity  ;  and  is  not 
this  a  very  precious  consolation  to  surviving  friends  ? 

Could  we  wish  the  weather-beaten  mariner,  who  has  just 
crossed  the  threshold  of  his  home,  and  is  now  locked  in  the 
embraces  of  his  family,  back  again  upon  the  stormy  seas,  and 
amid  the  dashing  waves  and  pelting  storms  through  which 
he  has  passed  with  much  suffering  and  with  great  peril  ? 
Nay,  we  rather  pronounce  him  blessed,  and  congratulate  him 
on  having  safely  reached  his  port  and  his  home.  Had  we 
the  power,  would  we  command  that  friend,  who  has  been 
20* 


234        THE  RKPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD. 

stretched  upon  a  bed  of  languishing  and  pain  for  months  and 
years,  but  who  is  just  risen  up,  and  is  for  the  first  time  abroad 
upon  a  bright  morning,  rejoicing  like  an  uncaged  bird 
while  breathing  the  pure  air  of  heaven,  back  to  his  couch, 
and  assign  him  yet,  other  sleepless  nights  and  days  of  pain  ? 
Ah,  no  !  it  is  with  emotions  of  joy,  as  if  ourselves  had  been 
relieved  of  a  painful  burden,  that  w^e,  press  his  emaciated 
hand,  and  welcome  him  back  to  the  pleasures  of  society,  to 
health  and  to  business.  And  should  we  be  less  considerate 
and  kind  to  those  dear  departed  ones,  who,  though  long  tem- 
pest-tossed, have  at  last  reached  the  haven  of  eternal  repose? 
No,  we  cannot  desire  their  return  to  other  scenes  of  trial,  or 
to  make  a  second  voyage  over  the  ocean  of  life,  which  heaves 
with  so  many  sorrows,  and  is  filled  with  so  many  rocks  and 
shoals  upon  w^hich  eternal  hopes  are  often  wrecked.  Neither 
could  we  wish  those  beloved  ones  back  to  this  vale  of  tears, 
who  were  known  as  great  but  patient  sufferers  among  us,  but 
whose  spirits  at  length  burst  the  prison  that  confined  them, 
and  soared  to  yonder  glorious  world  where  the  inhabitants 
shall  no  more  say  they  are  sick,  and  where  they  now  rejoice  in 
the  sunshine  of  a  Saviour's  love,  and  inhale  an  atmosphere 
which  thrills  their  being  with  immortal  raptures.  No,  our 
well  beloved,  but  sainted  ones,  the  Bible  has  thrown  such 
attractions  over  that  world  of  light  and  immortality,  that  we 
count  those  happy  who  have  reached  those  blissful  shores. 
The  quiet  tomb  where  your  bodies  sleep  is  a  precious  em- 
blem of  the  rest  of  your  spirits  from  all  that  afflicted  you  on 
earth.     For  you,  all  sorrows,  disappointments,  and  woes  are 


THE    REPOSE    OF   THE    HOLY   DEAD.  235 

ended.  No  more  shall  ye  languish  and  pine  on  a  foreign 
shore  in  exile  and  in  pain  ;  for  ye  are  at  home,  forever  home. 
Ye  have  no  more  losses  to  mourn,  no  partings  to  endure,  no 
temptations  to  resist,  no  sins  to  bewail. 
>  We  still  painfully  remember  our  fears  and  your  increasing 
infirmities,  parents  of  our  love,  as  we  saw  you  passing  from 
the  summer  into  the  evening  of  life.  How  you  yourselves 
even  seemed  surprised  as  your  strength  abated  and  your  eyes 
grew  dim,  and  thus  broken  with  age  you  sought  the  support 
of  those  arms  to  which  you  had  given  life,  to  assist  you  in 
your  slow  progress  to  the  shade  of  that  elm  which  your  own 
hands  had  planted.  And  there,  as  we  sat  together,  and 
looked  out  over  the  landscape,  so  changed  by  cultivation 
from  its  appearance  in  former  years,  you  spoke  to  us  of  by- 
gone days,  of  the  goodness  of  Providence,  and  the  com- 
panions of  your  youth.  One  by  one,  their  friends  had  passed 
away,  until  they  stood  the  lonely  representatives  of  a  former 
generation,  like  a  few  oaks  that  had  withstood  the  storm 
which  prostrated  the  forest.  Fondly  did  we  cling  around 
those  venerable  forms,  and  earnestly  as  ever  did  we  treasure 
up  the  lessons  of  wisdom  which  fell  from  the  lips  of  our 
honored  parents.  But  every  day  added  to  their  feebleness, 
until  all  those  images  of  extreme  frailty,  so  glowingly  pictured 
by  Solomon,  were  visible  upon  them.  The  almond  tree  was 
flourishing,  the  grasshopper  became  a  burden,  desire  failed, 
and  the  golden  bowl  was  about  to  be  broken  ;  and  conscious 
that  they  would  soon  go  to  their  long  home,  they  often 
uttered'that  touching  petition  of  David  —  "  Cast  me  not  ofT 


236         THE  EEPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD. 

in  the  lime  of  my  old  age,  forsake  me  not  when  my  strength 
faileth."  Well  do  I  remember  that  summer  evenino:,  when, 
for  the  last  time,  we  surveyed  together  the  scenes  around  that 
cherished  home  ;  and  vivid  is  the  impression  of  that  last 
utterance  that  we  heard  from  your  lips,  as  your  eyes  followed 
the  descending  sun  :  "  The  path  of  the  just  is  as  a  shining 
light,  which  shineth  more  and  more,  until  the  perfect  day." 
We  watched  through  your  sickness,  and  strove  to  alleviate 
those  sufferings  which  we  could  not  command  away;  and  in 
your  decline  and  exit  from  this  world,  we  felt  the  force  of  the 
declaration,  "  the  years  of  our  pilgrimage  are  three-score 
years  and  ten,  and  if  by  reason  of  strength  they  be  four-score  ; 
yet  is  their  strength  labor  and  sorrow,  for  it  is  soon  cut  off 
and  we  fly  away."  But  ye  have  gone  to  the  grave,  and  we 
will  not  deplore  you,  for  now  you  are  at  rest ;  and  having 
served  your  day  and  generation  according  to  the  will  of  God,, 
ye  have  fallen  asleep,  and  are  gathered  with  your  fathers, 
while  your  instructions  and  example  remain  to  guide  us  on- 
ward in  that  path  which  leads  from  the  grave  to  glory. 

Fresh  in  our  minds  are  your  sufferings,  cherished  com- 
panions, fond  sisters,  and  noble  brothers.  Are  you  a  husband, 
dear  reader,  and  do  you  mourn  the  gentle  partner  of  your 
bosom }  How  unutterably  sad  is  your  condition !  How 
incalculable  your  loss!  Alas!  who  can  enter  that  home, 
from  which  the  sunshine,  the  music,  and  the  smiles  of  a 
beloved  wife  and  mother  have  fled,  without  realizing  that  a 
dark  calamity  has  befallen  that  family,  and  spread  a  gloom 
over  that  scene  which  painfully  affects  every  observer.''    And 


THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD.        237 

who  can  withhold  his  sympathy  from  him  thus  bereaved, 
whether  you  see  him  in  his  quiet  and  cheerless  home,  or  in 
his  lonely  walks  with  those  who  are  continually  reminding 
him  of  the  departed  one?  There  may  be  other  kind  hearts 
to  yearn  over  that  little  flock,  but  not  with  the  delicate  ten- 
derness of  a  mother.  There  may  be  others  to  throw  around 
the  little  ones  a  cherishing  care ;  but  it  is  not  the  sweet  influ- 
ence of  a  mother,  wooing  into  beautiful  development  and 
growth,  the  budding  affections  and  springing  thoughts  of 
youthful  souls,  until  they  stand  clothed  with  excellence. 
The  place  and  office  of  a  good  mother  can  never  be  properly 
supplied  to  those  children.  But  although  he  who  is  thus 
bereaved,  is  conscious  that  a  calamity  disastrous  to  his  hap- 
piness has  befallen  him ;  yet  should  he  sustain  his  mind  by 
those  consolatory  considerations  which  the  sepulchre  sug- 
gests. Are  you  not  more  competent,  and  better  able  to  walk 
the  path  of  life  alone,  than  that  feeble  and  delicate  object  of 
your  affections?  Have  you  not  a  stronger  arm,  and  a  stouter 
heart,  and  more  ample  resources  in  your  nature,  to  call  to 
the  service  of  defending  and  directing  those  innocent  ones 
who  claim  your  protection  and  support?  And  consider,  also, 
how  that  gentle  being  was  bowed  down  with  unmitigated 
affliction  for  years.  How  her  bodily  infirmities  made  her 
life  a  weariness,  and  put  gall  and  wormwood  into  the  cup  of 
her  enjoyment;  and  her  constitution  so  shattered,  that  every 
pulsation  became  a  throb  of  pain.  And  must  not  her  repose 
in  the  tomb  be  sweet  ?  There  she  slumbers  on,  and  her 
peace  is  not  broken  by  a  single  disturbing  inffuence.     As 


238         THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD. 

you  watched  with  her  through  that  long  and  painful  scene  of 
suffering,  from  which  you  knew  she  could  not  recover  and 
that  separation  was  inevitable,  it  was  a  relief  to  your  sympa- 
thising heart,  when  you  saw  her  sinking  sweetly  on  the 
bosom  of  Jesus,  and  the  light  of  her  countenance  blending 
with  the  glory  of  another  world  ;  so  that,  in  death  she  was 
beautiful,  and  her  image  peaceful  as  an  angel  in  repose  ;  and 
you  surrendered  back  to  heaven  the  jewel  it  had  lent.  And 
now  the  quiet  sepulchre  speaks  to  you  of  the  peaceful  repose 
of  her  spirit ;  and  those  blooming  flowers  which  are  nourished 
by  her  dust,  image  to  your  mind  that  beautiful  immortality 
which  has  become  her  inheritance  forever. 

Or,  it  may  be  that  yours  is  the  desolation  of  the  widow, 
and  then  you  exclaimed,  as  you  looked  upon  the  cold  and 
lifeless  form  to  which  you  had  clung  with  so  much  confidence, 
"  How  is  the  strong  staff  and  beautiful  rod  broken  !"  And 
that  staff  may  have  crumbled  froni  beneath  you  at  a  time 
when  it  seemed  to  you  and  to  others  that  you  had  most  need 
of  its  support.  Difficult  as  it  is  to  administer  consolation  to 
those  who  almost  refuse  to  be  comforted,  even  the  sepulchre 
of  a  husband  may  utter  messages  which  will  kindle  hope  in 
that  desolate  heart,  and  breathe  a  reviving  cordial  over  that 
drooping  spirit.  Perhaps,  in  the  inscrutable  ways  of  a 
gracious  Providence,  that  silent  grave  may  have  brought 
quietness  and  peace  to  your  soul.  While  living  he  may  have 
been  the  tower  of  your  strength,  and  the  rock  of  your  hopes,  and, 
from  a  heart  brimming  with  affection,  shed  around  you  such 
a  flood  of  happiness,  that  you  sought  no  higher  blessing,  nor 


THE    llEPOSE    OF    THE    HOLY    DEAD.  239 

felt  the  need  of  a  more  impregnable  refuge.  But  in  that  day, 
when  the  storm  of  affliction  shook  your  tower  until  it  fell  into 
a  heap  of  ruins,  your  spirit,  like  an  affrighted  bird  driven  from 
its  nest,  flew  about  until  it  rested  on  the  Rock  of  ages  ;  and 
as  an  inhabitant  of  the  clefts  of  that  Rock,  it  now  sings  in 
cadences  all  the  sweeter,  because  mellowed  by  bereavement. 

"Rock  of  ages,  shelter  me! 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  thee  ; 
Let  the  water  and  the  blood 
From  thy  wounded  side  that  flowed, 
Be  of  sin  the  double  cure  ; 
Cleanse  me  from  its  guilt  and  power." 

And  if  you  have  sought  and  found  rest  in  the  embraces  of 
a  Saviour's  love,  then  have  the  chastisements  of  the  Lord, 
notwithstanding  their  painfulness,  been  the  vehicle  of  price- 
less good  to  you,  forasmuch  as  that  Providence  which  opened 
a  grave  for  your  beloved  also  unlocked  the  door  of  your 
soul's  prison,  and  ushered  you  into  the  liberty  of  God's  chil- 
dren. And  although  your  head  shall  no  more  repose  on  the 
throbbing  bosom  of  that  husband,  nor  his  arms  encircle  your 
slender  form,  yet  do  you  pillow  your  head  upon  the  bosom- 
of  Jesus,  and  underneath  you  are  the  arms  that  sustain  the 
universe.  Thus  while  He,  whose  judgments  are  past  finding 
out,  has  taken  thy  partner  to  rest.  He  has  given  himself  to 
thee,  "  for  He  is  the  father  of  the  fatherless,  and  the  husband 
of  the  widow."  And  while  you  praise  Him  for  bestowing 
a  greater  treasure  than  He  has  taken,  you  would  not  recall 
him  whom  you  cherished  so  tenderly  from  his  hallowed 
repose,  to  pass  again  through  the  throes  of  death. 


240        THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD. 

0!  how  many  precious  little  innocent  ones  now  enjoy  the 
holy  repose  of  the  sepulchre.  To  them  it  has  indeed  become 
a  covert  from  the  storms  which  blow  along  the  pathway  of 
life.  But  young  as  many  of  these  were  when  death  overtook 
them,  and  short  as  their  race  seemed,  some  of  them  suffered 
more  than  others  who  lived  to  an  advanced  age.  It  will  not 
be  deemed  strange  if  I  give  a  brief  history  of  one,  and  thus 
present  a  record  of  a  great  multitude.  For  are  they  not  all 
innocent  and  lovely.''  and  is  not  the  affection  with  which  they 
are  cherished  everywhere  the  same  ?  It  was  on  the  22d  of 
February,  1845,  in  a  pleasant  village  on  the  banks  of  the 
Potomac,  that  we  received  our  first-born  from  the  Lord.  An 
angel-boy ;  not  only  lovely  in  the  eyes  of  his  parents, 
but  all  who  knew  him,  seemed  to  be  irresistibly  drawn 
to  him.  The  natural  comeliness  of  his  faultless  person  was 
heightened  by  unusual  intelligence  and  loveliness  of  spirit. 
He  grew  rapidly  in  stature  and  in  wisdom ;  and  as  his  body 
expanded  and  his  snowy,  ample  brow  hung  about  with 
golden  ringlets,  he  formed  an  image  of  rare  beauty.  He 
was  tenderly  cherished,  and  perhaps  too  much  engrossed  the 
affections  of  his  fond  parents.  But  he  was  a  holy  child  ;  and 
of  his  own  accord,  before  he  could  articulate  words,  com- 
menced, and  ever  after  statedly  observed,  secret  devotion.  In 
his  third  year  he  would  cause  his  little  playmates  to  unite 
with  him  in  social  worship.  And  as  he  always  exhibited  a 
profound  reverence  for  God  and  holy  things,  and  delighted 
in  the  w'orship  of  the  sanctuary,  we  had  formed  our  hopes 
concerning  him.     We  had  pictured  a  bright  future,  when  we 


THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD.         241 

should  see  him  walking  iu  the  way  to  heaven,  and  luring 
others  on  to  glory.  For  such  were  our  assurances  of  his 
piety,  gathered  from  his  daily  conversations,  that  we  knew 
God  had  already  established  his  goings.  On  one  occa- 
sion, while  his  mother  read  the  history  of  two  good  boys  to 
him,  he  exhibited  a  rare  tenderness  of  conscience  for  one  so 
young;  for,  after  attentively  listening  to  the  end,  he  seemed 
deeply  affected,  and  threw  his  arms  about  her  neck,  while 
his  eyes  filled  with  tears,  saying,  "  0  ma,  I  am  bad  because 
I  am  yet  so  little."  Such  language  from  one  who  had  never 
manifested  any  disposition  to  be  disobedient  or  unkind,  and  in 
whose  life  we  never  had  detected  any  fruits  of  depravity, 
showed  very  clearly  that  he  had  been  taught  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  But  a  mysterious  Providence  now  sent  us  a  sore 
trial  for  our  faith  and  his.  He  was  visited  with  a  painful  and 
distressing  malady.  Ah !  how  painfully  vivid  are  those  long 
nights  and  days  of  suffering  before  our  minds !  Thrice  did 
he  behold  Nature  rising  from  death  renewed  in  vernal  beaut}', 
before  the  disease  yielded  and  gradually  withdrew  from 
his  body ;  so  that  his  youth  was  renewed  like  the  eagle's,  and 
we  rejoiced  as  those  who  receive  one  from  the  dead.  But 
how  uncertain  are  our  hopes,  and  how  vain  our  expectations ! 
A  month,  a  day,  an  hour  may  quench  them  all !  Our  beauti- 
ful boy,  one  morning  as  he  rose  from  his  slumbers,  ran  to  me 
and  said, "  0  pa,  I  had  such  a  pretty  dream  last  night !"  On 
being  asked  what  it  was,  he  replied,  "  I  thought  God  came 
down  into  ray  room  and  took  me  out  of  my  bed,  and 
21 


242         THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD. 

earned  me  up  above  the  moon  and  the  stars,  and  I  saw  so 
many  beautiful  thuigs,  and  I  saw  persons  with  wings,  and 
they  flew,  and  I  flew  about  too :  and  all  was  so  bright  and 
pretty  !"  That  which  was  thus  pictured  upon  his  mind  in  a 
dream,  perhaps  occasioned  by  his  meditations,  he  was  per- 
mitted to  realize  in  two  weeks  from  that  time.  The  cholera 
broke  out  in  our  midst,  and  among  its  victims  was  our  dear 
child.  0 !  how  his  sufferings  did  smite  our  hearts,  and 
pierce  like  a  sword  our  very  souls!  It  seemed  as  though  our 
own  nature  was  dying,  and  every  death-throe  in  our  beloved 
fdled  us  with  fresh  anguish.  0  God!  what  bitterness  there 
is  in  the  memory  of  that  hour!  But  he  longed  for  heaven, 
and  we  yielded  up  our  heart's  treasure,  our  all,  our  only  boy, 
and  said,  "  Go,  our  sweet  boy,  go !  we  will  no  longer  hold 
thee  back,  since  it  is  painful  to  thee  !  May  the  deliverer  come  ! 
Thy  parents  will  no  longer  contend  with  him  to  retain  thee ! 
Go!  then,  our  first  born,  our  summer  child;  and  if  there 
never  more  may  come  a  summer  to  these  hearts,  still  go,  that 
thou  mayest  have  rest.  Blessed  be  thou !  and  blessed  be  He 
also  who  gave  thee  to  us,  and  who  now  taketh  thee  from  us 
to  a  better  home-  Some  time,  beloved  son,  we  will  come  to 
thee.  Come,  thou  good  deliverer  —  come,  thou  beloved 
death,  and  give  rest  to  his  heart ;  but  easily,  easily  death." 
And  the  little  chest  had  heaved  for  the  last  time,  a  smile  stole 
upon  his  countenance  and  told  us  that  he  was  with 
God.  But  he  sleeps  far  away  from  us,  and  we  can  only 
express  our  feelings  in  the  sweet  strains  of  another  bereaved 
one: 


THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD.        243 

"Thoughts  of  that  little  lonely  grave, 
Beneath  the  green-tree  shade, 
Come  over  me  with  anguish  new. 
As  when  it  first  was  made  ; 
And  "earth  to  earth,"  and  "dust  to  dust," 
Their  fearful  sound  conveyed. 
For  there  within,  my  first-born  son 
Was  laid  in  slumber  fair. 
So  life-like,  that  I  did  mistrust 
That  death  was  imaged  there  ; 
They  heaped  the  dark  mould  o'er  his  head, 
And  said  a  holy  prayer. 
And  there  he  sleeps,  so  wonder  not 
That  thus  my  tears  will  flow ; 
That  little  grave  —  that  lonely  grave, — 
To  leave  unguarded  so  ; 
While  far  away  from  those  sad  scenes 
I  must  forever  go." 

We  can  therefore  join  in  the  grief  of  the  many  bereaved 
ones,  whose  homes  have  been  desolated  by  death,  and  whose 
hearts  are  robed  in  sackcloth.  We  can  mingle  our  sorrows 
as  we  recall  with  tears  the  sufferings  of  those  dear  innocent 
ones.  Ah,  ye  precious  lambs,  how  can  we  forget  that  hour 
when  you  looked  wildly  to  us  for  help ;  when  you  clasped 
your  little  arms  about  our  neck,  and  your  little  hearts  were 
fluttering  out  their  last  pulsations  upon  our  anguished 
bosoms.  0  !  the  scenes  of  that  last  hour,  and  that  last  look, 
are  forever  present  to  our  minds.  But  ye  have  overcome ; 
ye  have  fallen  asleep  in  Jesus ;  and  that  heavenly  radiance 
that  beamed  upon  your  countenance,  assured  us  that  angels 
pillowed  your  souls  to  rest ;  and  those  bright  and  beautiful 
things  which  opened  to  your  vision,  but  which  our  eyes 
could  not  see ;  and  those  celestial  melodies  which  charmed 


244        THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD. 

your  infant  spirits  away,  but  which  vibrated  not  on  mortal 
ears ;  all  were  imaged  on  your  features.  Ye  glided  peace- 
fully av,-ay,  as  the  rivulet  loses  itself  in  the  stream  ;  as  dew- 
drops  ye  sparkled  a  little  while,  until  drawn  up  by  the  light 
and  warmth  of  eternal  love  to  mingle  with  the  fellowship  and 
glory  of  heaven. 

"  Happy  spirits,  ye  arc  fled, 

Where  no  grief  can  entrance  find ; 
Lull'd  to  rest  the  aching  head  ; 

Sooth'd  the  anguish  of  the  mind. 
Every  tear  is  wiped  away, 

Sighs  no  more  shall  heave  the  breast; 
Night  is  lost  in  endless  day, 

Sorrow  in  eternal  rest." 

But  we  will  cherish  your  memories  ;  we  will  religiously 
preserve  those  dear  images  which  the  blessed  sunlight  has 
pencilled  on  the  steel,  but  we  will  not  wish  you  back.  No  ! 
not  even  to  still  these  aching  bosoms,  nor  to  fill  that  void 
which  your  removal  has  occasioned,  and  which  all  the  world 
cannot  replenish.  Blessed,  happy  ones!  to  have  gone  so 
early,  and  so  innocently,  from  earth  to  heaven. 

0 !  is  it  not  a  great  consolation  to  know  that  they  rest  in 
peace  ?  Had  we  gone  first,  we  could  not  have  had  the  same 
firm  assurance  that  they  would  follow  us  to  heaven.  The 
young  are  exposed  to  many  dangers,  both  from  the  corrup- 
tions of  their  own  hearts,  and  from  the  temptations  of  the 
world.  Sin  is  a  serpent  which  first  charms,  and  then  winds 
its  immense  folds  around  its  unsuspecting  victims,  until  it 
chains  them  firmly  to  vice.  New  sources  of  corruption  are 
multiplying  continually,  so  that  the  parent  is  really  happy. 


THE  REPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD.        245 

whose  family  has  gone  before  him  to  the  "  rest  that  remaineth 
for  the  people  of  God."  Well  may  such  exclaim  with  the 
patriarch,  "  the  Lord  gave,  the  Lord  has  taken  away,  blessed 
be  the  name  of  the  Lord."  For  while  our  sainted  ones  have 
escaped  all  dangers,  they  are  also  exempt  from  those  sorrows 
which  are  incident  to  the  life  of  pilgrims  on  earth.  The 
ills  which  cling  to  our  humanity,  and  the  distresses  which 
are  felt  on  our  progress  to  eternity ;  the  languor  of  disease, 
and  the  infu'mities  of  age,  shall  never  afflict  them  with  tlieir 
hard  pressures.  Only  a  few  storms  beat  around  them  in  the 
morning  of  life,  and  now  their  eternal  existence  is  unclouded 
and  glorious.  How  much  more  blessed  are  they,  than  God's 
most  favored  children  on  earth!  Here  we  toil ;  yonder  they 
rest.  Here  we  often  weep  ;  there  they  rejoice ;  and  while  we 
are  tossed  by  temptations,  and  anguished  by  fears,  eternal 
sunshine  plays  around  their  heads,  and  ravishing  melodies 
flow  from  their  lips.  The  distant  echoes  of  that  music  now 
vibrate  upon  my  ear,  and  my  heart  throbs  with  emotions  of 
delight  under  the  conscious  persuasion  that  I  have  furnished 
one  to  that  company  of  harpers  around  the  eternal  throne  — 
that  one,  who  was  "  bone  of  my  bone,  and  flesh  of  my  flesh," 
stands  in  the  presence  of  God,  and  utters  the  hallelujahs  of 
heaven.  And  0 !  how  it  will  relieve  the  last  hour  of  its 
bitterness,  and  kindle  raptures  in  the  heart  laboring  in  the 
throes  of  death,  to  know  that  there  are  precious  ones  just 
beyond  Jordan,  all  bright  and  glorious,  ready  to  fly  into  our 
embraces,  and  welcome  us  to  the  joys  of  a  bhssfu]  immor- 
tality !  Father  of  all  mercies,  forgive  these  yearnings  after 
21  '^' 


246        THE  KEPOSE  OF  THE  HOLY  DEAD. 

our  beloved,  if  they  partake  of  aught  that  is  sinful.  Give  us 
a  quiet  and  submissive  spirit  in  every  trial.  Let  the  light  of 
thy  countenance  fall  upon  every  dark  scene  which  thy  wis- 
dom ordains  for  us,  and  help  us  always  to  feel  that  thou  art 
good,  for  — 

"  By  our  path  of  ti'ial,  thou  plantest  still 
Thy  lilies  of  consolation ; 
But  the  loveliest  of  all,  to  do  thy  vrill 
Be  it  done  in  resignation," 


CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

THE  SEPULCHRE  REMINDS  US  OP  THE  VALUE  AND 
IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL 


•'  It  must  be  so  ;  Plato,  thou  reasonest  well, 
Else  whence  this  pleasing  hope,  this  fond  desire, 
This  longing  after  immortality  ? 
Or  whence  this  secret  dread  and  inward  horror 
Of  falling  into  naught  ?     Why  shrinks  the  soul 
Back  on  herself,  and  startles  at  destruction  ? 
'Tis  the  Divinity  that  stirs  within  us  ; 
'Tis  heaven  itself  that  points  out  an  hereafter, 
And  intimates  eternity  to  man." 


When  gazing  upon  the  ruins  of  a  palace,  the  first  emotions 
of  surprise  and  sadness  will  be  quickly  succeeded  by  reflec- 
tions connected  with  the  inhabitants  that  either  escaped  from 
the  fallen  pile,  or  perished  in  the  ruins.  And  thus,  also, 
when  standing  by  the  sepulchre  of  a  departed  one,  we  may 
utter  our  lamentations  as  we  remember  the  former  condition 
of  that  body  which  now  moulders  under  the  power  of  corrup- 
tion, while  our  thoughts  are  associated  with  the  soul  that 
animated  it.  That  body  was  once  instinct  with  life ;  it 
breathed,  and  moved,  and  spoke,  and  performed  all  those 
noble  functions  for  which  the  Creator  had  designed  it.  That 
pulseless  heart  once  swelled  with  lofty  emotions ;  it  was  the 

(247) 


248  THE    SEPULCHRE   REMINDS    US    OF   THE 

home  of  generous  friendships  and  the  empire  of  holy  love. 
Those  feet  which,  with  swift  and  unfaltering  step,  trod  the 
path  of  duty,  are  motionless.  That  arm,  once  nerved  with 
strength  and  lifted  to  the  execution  of  exalted  purposes,  now 
lies  helpless  across  the  manly  chest  which  had  heaved  in 
unison  with  the  grand  designs  of  Jehovah.  And  that  eye, 
which  was  wont  to  flame  with  intellectual  fire,  is  dim  ;  and 
that  brow,  on  which  glowed  eloquent  thought,  is  stricken 
with  the  pallor  of  death ;  and  the  entire  appearance  of  that 
house  of  clay  forcibly  illustrates  the  declaration  of  the  Psalm- 
ist, "  Thou  changest  his  countenance,  and  sendest  him 
away."  But  while  contemplating  the  ruins  of  the  earthly 
mansion,  do  we  not  instinctively  ask,  where  is  the  spirit,  the 
former  inhabitant  of  this  ruined  temple  ?  There  is,  perhaps, 
ho  subject  which  has  more  universally  and  intensely  occupied 
the  attention  of  mankind  in  the  different  periods  of  the 
world's  history,  than  the  nature  and  destiny  of  the  soul.  It 
has  always  awakened  deep  and  earnest  thoughts  among  the 
reflecting,  and  commanded  the  profound  meditations  of 
ancient  philosophers.  Among  these  we  number  as  the  most 
prominent,  Socrates  and  Plato,  who  approximated  the  solution 
of  the  problem  of  our  being,  although  they  did  not  succeed 
in  their  efforts  to  unravel  the  mystery  in  which  it  was 
involved.  All  men  had  certain  internal  intimations  and 
vague  apprehensions  of  the  soul's  future  existence ;  but  these 
pushed  their  inquiries  farther,  and  obtained  more  elevated 
ideas  of  its  nature  and  destiny. 

Job  asked   the   question,  "  If  a   man  die,  shall   he   live 


VALUE   AND   IMMORTALITY   OF   THE    SOUL.  249 

again  ?"  If  not,  then  religion  is  a  delusion,  the  Bible  a  fable, 
and  eternity  a  dream.  Then  may  we,  then  ought  we,  to 
snatch  from  the  passing  moments  of  the  present  every  thing 
which  can  be  made  tributary  to  our  enjoyment.  But  if  we 
shall  exist  hereafter,  then  life  becomes  a  solemn  reality  ;  and 
religion,  and  the  Bible,  and  eternity,  the  most  momentous 
subjects  that  can  engage  the  attention  of  rational  beings. 
And  then,  also,  will  we  regard  as  thrillingly  important  the 
questions  which  so  frequently  propound  themselves  to  the 
mind  :  What  am  I  ?  Whence  have  I  come,  and  whither  am 
I  going  ?  What  is  the  beginning,  the  nature,  and  design  of 
my  existence  ?  Does  it  stop  in  the  tomb,  or  stretch  into  the 
far-beyond  of  internainable  ages  ?  If  I  regard  myself  as 
nothing  more  than  a  bit  of  organized  dust,  which  is  to  be 
scattered  to  the  winds  by  the  breath  of  the  destroyer,  I  will 
certainly  not  order  my  walk  and  conversation  with  any 
reference  to  the  future.  But  if  I  recognize  in  myself  an 
immortal  being,  I  will  find  my  thoughts  at  once  linked  and 
associated  with  eternal  realities  ;  so  that  very  important  results 
are  to  flow  from  the  manner  in  which  I  answer  these 
questions.  If  a  man  thinks  at  all,  his  reflections  must  some- 
times be  connected  with  his  own  mysterious  being.  The 
history  of  other  objects,  and  the  changes  through  which  they 
pass  to  work  out  their  appropriate  results,  will  necessarily 
suggest  inquiries  as  to  his  own  future.  He  beholds  death  at 
work  everywhere  in  Nature.  The  forest  and  the  field  are 
stripped  of  their  excellent  glory ;  and  the  pall  of  decay,  and 
the  blight  of  desolation,  at  certain  periods  mantle  the  material 


250  THE    SEPULCHRE    REMINDS    US    OF   THE 

creation  around  him.  But  he  also  beholds  those  things 
which  had  descended  into  the  grave  of  winter  reproduced 
under  new  and  even  more  beautiful  forms.  "  There  is 
hope  of  a  tree,"  saith  Job,  "  if  it  be  cut  down,  that  it  will 
sprout  again,  and  that  the  tender  branch  thereof  will  not 
cease."  And  is  it  possible  that  man  should  die  and  not  live 
again?  Shall  the  soul  participate  in  the  decay  of  the  body? 
Does  it  cease  to  exist  and  to  think?  and  is  it  struck  with 
eternal  sleep,  and  laid  in  the  darksome  grave  to  wake  no 
more  forever  ? 

"  Can  it  be 
Matter  immortal?     And  shall  spirit  die? 
Above  the  noble  shall  less  noble  rise ! 
Shall  man  alone,  for  whom  all  else  revives, 
No  resurrection  know  ?     Shall  man  alone, 
Imperial  man  !  be  sown  in  barren  ground, 
Less  privileged  than  grain  on  which  he  feeds  ? 

The  sentiments  embodied  in  this  language  come  with 
peculiar  urgency  to  us  at  the  sepulchres  of  our  departed,  and 
demand  an  explicit  answer  before  we  can  surrender  them 
with  a  cheerful  heart.  To  the  question,  then,  which  the 
patriarch  propounds,  and  which  is  reiterated  by  the  poet,  "  If 
a  man  die  shall  he  live  again  ?"  we  unhesitatingly  and  un- 
qualifiedly respond  in  the  affirmative. 

The  soul  carries  within  its  own  nature  the  most  conclusive 
proofs  of  its  immortality.  What  is  the  soul  ?  It  is  not 
material.  It  cannot  be  seen,  nor  handled ;  neither  is  it 
subject  to  those  laws  which  govern  material  things.  And  on 
this  very  ground  has  the  atheist  triumphantly  asked,  how  can 
I  believe  in  the  existence  of  something  which  is  intangible 


VALUE  AND  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL.      251 

to  my  senses  ?  Can  that  exist  whose  form  eludes  my  vision 
and  my  touch  ?  But  we  might  ask  such  whether  they  ever 
saw^  the  pain  which  has  wrung  from  them  cries  of  anguish  ? 
or  whether  they  can  discern  and  scan  the  dimensions  of  those 
powers  whose  unseen  energies  robe  our  earth  with  innumer- 
able blessings  ?  Or  can  they  go  behind  the  visible  effects  of 
that  veiled  and  mysterious  energy  which  fills  the  universe 
with  life,  and  motion,  and  beauty,  and  describe  its  character- 
istics? And  surely  none  will  presume  to  deny  the  existence 
of  this  hidden  force  which  resides  in  the  organism  of  nature  ; 
for  it  is  manifested  on  a  magnificent  scale  through  all  her 
domain, while  it  is  proclaimed  by  the  revolutions  of  the  heavenly 
bodies,  by  the  royal  sound  of  thunder,  and  in  the  voice  of 
the  earthquake.  And  are  there  not  in  like  manner  the  most 
imposing  monuments  to  attest  the  existence  of  the  soul  ? 
Whence  are  those  systems  of  human  law  in  which  we  find 
concentrated  the  rays  of  wisdom  which  lay  scattered 
through  the  different  ages  of  the  world  ?  There  could  not  be 
a  more  sublime  monument  to  human  genius  than  our  own 
code  of  civil  jurisprudence.  And  to  what  parentage  do  we 
ascribe  the  philosophy,  the  science,  the  learning,  and  the 
useful  inventions  which  have  contributed  so  largely  to  the 
advancement  and  happiness  of  the  race  ?  Are  not  all  these 
the  offspring  of  the  same  parent  —  the  intellect,  effects  pro- 
duced by  the  spiritual  and  immaterial  part  of  man  ?  Men 
universally  acknowledge  a  distinction  between  the  products 
of  matter  and  those  which  emanate  from  that  intelligent, 
thinking  being  which  resides  in  these  houses  of  clay.     It  is, 


252  THE    SEPULCHRE    REMINDS    US    OF    THE 

moreover,  the  soul  which  elevates  raan  above  the  irrational 
animal  creation.  As  to  his  body,  he  is  conscious  of  all  the 
wants,  passions,  and  appetites  of  an  animal ;  but  "  there  is  a 
spirit  in  raan,  and  the  breath  of  the  Almighty  hath  given  him 
understanding."  And  it  is  this  spirit  which  links  him  in 
fellowship  with  God  and  his  angels.  It  is  this  which  clothes 
him  with  honor,  and  gives  him  a  position  of  pre-eminence  in 
relation  to  other  creatures,  and  makes  him  lord  of  the  earth. 
The  body  is  dust,  and  is  irresistibly  drawn  to  its  origin  ;  but 
the  soul  is  conscious  of  a  higher  destiny,  and  aspires  to  a 
glorious  immortality.  It  is  to  his  spiritual  nature  that  man 
is  indebted  for  his  conceptions  of  God ;  for  that  which  he 
sees  and  enjoys ;  for  his  ability  to  invent  and  project ;  to  con- 
trol his  individual  actions,  or  to  preside  over  the  affairs  of  an 
empire.  For  it  is  the  soul  which  thinks,  and  reasons,  and 
wills,  and  acts.  Our  actions  are  not  the  results  of  a  peculiar 
organization,  as  infidelity,  under  the  name  of  science,  has 
sometimes  attempted  to  establish — an  assumption  which  is  as 
foolish  as  it  is  wicked,  and  which  must  always  have  a  low 
origin,  and  a  still  lower  tendency.  Such  teachings  are 
not  the  legitimate  offspring  of  science,  but  a  bastard  brood 
which  have  been  falsely  baptized  scientific  ;  forasmuch  as  a 
system  never  rises  to  the  dignity  of  a  science  unless  it  is 
based  upon  immutable  deductions  and  demonstrations,  drawn 
from  established  and  incontrovertible  facts ;  none  of  which 
can  be  claimed  for  the  pratings  of  infidelity,  nor  for  any  of 
those  perversions  of  true  science  which  have  been  pressed 
into  the   service   of  a  bad  cause.     Fortunately  for  sound 


VALUE  AND  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL.      253 

morality,  for  religion,  and  the  cause  of  truth,  the  abandoned 
lives  of  these  votaries  of  evil  furnish  such  a  commentary  on 
their  system  as  will  forever  prevent  its  adoption  by  those 
who  are  not  prepared  to  plunge  themselves  and  society  into 
hopeless  ruin.  For  what  other  result  could  ensue  if  the 
cheerless  fatalism  of  ancient  times  were  brought  back  upon 
society,  to  justify  the  corruptions  and  vices  of  the  depraved. 
If  mankind  could  be  made  to  believe  that  man's  moral  actions 
are  the  results  of  his  physical  and  intellectual  structure, 
then  there  would  be  no  escape  from  the  conclusion  that  all 
the  penalties  which  government  inflicts  upon  the  violators 
of  law,  are  gross  outrages  committed  upon  those  criminals  ; 
for  where  is  the  right  to  punish,  when  there  is  no  power  to 
refrain  from  the  commission  of  crime  ?  The  brute  and  the 
maniac  are  not  subjects  of  government;  neither  do  men 
denounce  the  fire  and  steam,  or  any  other  destructive 
element  which  may  have  occasioned  the  loss  of  life. 

If  a  man's  actions  are  as  the  leaves  and  fruit  of  a  tree,  the 
legitimate  growth  of  his  nature,  and  not  the  offspring  of  his 
will,  he  can  no  longer  be  regarded  as  a  responsible  agent, 
and  therefore  cannot  be  justly  punished  for  any  transgression 
which  flows  from  a  constitutional  necessity.  The  admission 
of  this  doctrine  would  constrain  us  to  regard  the  entire 
social  structure  as  wrong,  and  totally  subversive  of  every 
principle  of  right,  and  the  acts  of  the  vicious  as  misfortunes 
and  not  crimes.  And  this  would  not  only  conflict  with  all 
the  interests  of  society,  and  strike  at  the  very  existence  and 
peace  of  social  life,  but  is  in  direct  opposition  to  the  Divine 
22 


254       THE  SEPULCHRE  REMINDS  US  OF  THE 

government.  For  wiih  what  justice  could  God  punish  the 
incorrigible  sinner,  if  he  is  the  child  of  immutable  fate,  and 
acts  only  in  conformity  with  the  laws  of  his  being?  But 
such  are  not  the  teachings  of  reason,  of  conscience,  or  of 
the  Bible.  All  these  assure  us  that  our  actions  are  the 
results  of  a  free,  intelligent,  and  therefore  accountable,  soul 
within  us.  It  is  not  a  material  organization,  but  a  depraved 
heart  and  a  perverted  will,  which  darken  the  life  of  man 
with  crime.  Such  are  the  utterances  of  heaven  respecting 
the  soul ;  and  with  these  the  consciousness  of  man  fully  co- 
incides ;  and  he  is,  therefore,  placed  in  a  sphere  allied  to  that 
of  angels. 

Thought  and  reflection  are  also  properties  peculiar  to  the 
mind.  Matter  can  never  be  made  to  think.  It  may  undergo 
refining  processes,  be  turned  into  a  gaseous  or  fluid  state,  but 
through  whatever  crucible  it  may  pass,  and  whatever  combi- 
nations it  may  be  made  to  assume,  it  never  rises  to  the 
dignity  of  intelligence.  Man  is  the  author  of  wonderful 
discoveries,  and  has  made  almost  all  things  tributary  to  his 
will,  and  subject  to  his  power;  but  among  all  the  nicely 
contrived  machinery  of  which  he  is  the  architect,  there  is 
nothing  which  is  able  to  endow  matter  with  the  faculty  of 
thought.  This  is  a  property  of  the  soul,  and  incontestably 
demonstrates  that  it  is  essentially  distinct  in  its  nature  from 
material  substances,  and  therefore,  not  subject  to  those  laws 
which  control  the  physical  man.  It  cannot  be  impaired  or 
destroyed  like  the  body.  You  may  chain  the  human  form, 
load   its   limbs  w'ith   fetters   of  iron,  and   so   oppress   and 


VALUE  AND  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL.     255 

waste  it  by  confinement,  as  to  destroy  its  life  by  starvation, 
or  torture,  but  you  can  forge  no  fetters  with  which  to  manacle 
the  soul.  It  scorns  all  the  implements  of  tyranny,  and  bids 
defiance  to  the  gloomy  cell  and  the  walled  prison.  From 
the  deepest  and  darkest  dungeon  into  which  the  body  may 
be  cast,  the  soul  will  soon  soar  away  in  its  thoughts  at  plea- 
sure to  whatever  fields  of  knowledge  and  enjoyment  it  may 
delight  to  explore.  Behold  Paul,  the  ambassador  of  Christ, 
while  incarcerated  at  Rome  ;  though  cut  off  from  social 
intercourse  with  friends,  yet  was  he  in  sympathy  with  the 
Church  and  in  communion  with  God.  His  heart  never 
pulsated  with  freer  emotions  and  loftier  purposes,  than  while 
from  his  narrow  cell  there  issued  those  inspired  intellectual  crea- 
tions, which  are  still  going  round  the  globe,  publishing  the 
blessings  and  mysteries  of  redemption  to  a  lost  world.  His 
oppressors  had  loaded  his  hands  with  chains,  but  they  could 
not  bind  the  faculties  of  his  immortal  spirit.  His  aspirations 
darted  like  viewless  angels  to  the  bosom  of  God,  and  to  the 
throne  of  tiie  Mediator,  when  he  penned  that  triumphant 
assurance  —  "I  know  in  whom  I  have  believed,  and  am- 
persuaded  that  He  is  able  to  keep  that,  which  I  have  com- 
mitted to  Him,  against  that  day."  And  the  like  experience 
had  all  "  that  cloud  of  witnesses,  of  whom  the  world  was  not 
worthy."  And  it  was  in  view  of  the  spiritual  nature  of  the 
soul,  which  placed  it  beyond  the  reach  of  human  violence, 
that  the  Saviour  exhorted  his  disciples  —  "Fear  not  them 
which  kill  the  body,  but  are  not  able  to  kill  the  soul ;  but 
rather  fear  him  that  is  able  to  destroy  both  soul  and  body  in 


256  THE    SEPULCHRE    REMINDS    US    OF   THE 

hell."  The  body  soon  reaches  its  maturity,  then  enters  upon 
its  decline,  and  presently  sinks  into  a  heap  of  ruins  ;  but  it  is 
not  so  with  the  spirit.  The  dying  testimonies  of  millions 
have  furnished  the  most  conclusive  proof,  that  the  soul  r'e- 
mains  vigorous  and  unimpaired  amid  the  decays  of  the  body. 
If  any  of  its  faculties  seem  to  fail,  or  perform  their  office 
feebly,  we  shall  find  the  cause  of  that  feebleness  in  the 
weakness  of  those  organs  through  which  they  act,  and  not  in 
any  diminished  strength  of  the  soul.  The  great  intellects 
which  have  shone  conspicuously  in  the  civil  and  religious 
world,  and  commanded  the  homage  of  mankind,  never 
uttered  greater  thoughts  than  when  standing  on  that  crumb- 
ling precipice,  where  the  interests  of  time  and  eternity  blend 
Luther  and  Knox,  Washington  and  Napoleon,  Clay  and 
Webster,  never  displayed  greater  intellectual  force  than  near 
the  close  of  their  earthly  pilgrimage.  And  is  it  not  equally 
true  of  all,  the  action  of  whose  minds  is  not  crippled  by 
diseased  organs,  that  while  the  harbingers  of  death  were 
busy  in  taking  dow^n  their  tenement  of  clay,  they  uttered 
thoughts  wide  and  deep  as  eternity.  And  should  not 
the  testimony  of  the  soul  in  regard  to  its  undying 
nature  be  received,  as  it  is  uttered  on  the  very  thres- 
hold of  an  endless  futurity,  and  when  in  the  very  act  of 
gathering  up  its  energies  for  the  immortal  flight  ?  Ah !  he 
who  has  stood  by  the  couch  of  the  dying  righteous,  or  the 
wicked,  and  witnessed  the  kindlings  of  unutterable  raptures 
as  the  glories  of  heaven  unfolded  to  the  vision  of  the  depart- 
ing ;  or  seen  the  sullen  gloom  of  despair  settling  upon  the 


VALUE  AND  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL.     257 

coantenance  as  a  dark  and  fearful  destiny  came  thronging 
upon  his  inner  consciousness,  can  have  no  skepticism  as  to 
the  soul's  immortality.  Said  one  who  was  passing  to  a 
better  home — "My  heart  is  so  full  of  happiness,  that  it 
seems  to  me  that  I  could  give  out  to  all  the  world,  and  it 
would  still  be  overflowing." 

It  has  been  my  painful  duty  on  more  than  one  occasion 
to  witness  awful  premonitions  of  despair  in  the  dying  whom 
I  was  called  to  attend.  The  case  of  a  young  man  to  whom 
I  was  warmly  attached,  was  of  this  melancholy  character. 
He  was  sent  in  early  life  to  try  his  fortune  in  one  of  our  large 
cities.  He  obtained  a  situation  in  an  extensive  mercantile 
establishment,  and  by  his  aptness  and  intelligence,  and  the 
interest  which  he  exhibited  in  the  business  of  his  employers, 
soon  won  their  esteem  and  confidence.  After  a  short  appren- 
ticeship he  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the  establishment.  He 
displayed  unusual  business  tact,  and  such  were  his  qualifi- 
cations for  his  responsible  post,  that  he  managed  with  great 
success  nearly  all  the  business  affairs  of  the  firm.  His  em- 
ployers had  unbounded  confidence  in  his  judgment  and 
honesty,  and  therefore  committed  to  his  trust  the  care  of  the 
house  during  their  absence,  or  while  giving  their  attention  to 
other  duties.  But  that  young  man,  like  too  many  others, 
found  no  home  in  the  families  of  those  merchants,  and  no 
watchful  counselors  in  those  whom  he  served.  And  0  !  how 
many  youths  are  there  in  our  large  cities,  over  whom  em- 
ployers exercise  no  parental  care,  and  no  moral  influence  for 
good  !     They  scarcely  know  where  they  lodge,  and  perhaps 

22* 


258  THE    SEPULCHRE   REMINDS    US   OF   THE 

never  inquire  what  associations  they  form  ;  and  yet  who  can 
doubt  that  those  who  are  served  by  these  young  men,  have 
resting  upon  them  a  tremendous  responsibility,  and  that 
they  are  solemnly  bound  to  bring  them  under  such  religious 
influences  as  will  save  them  from  the  temptations  to  which 
they  are  exposed  ?  Removed  from  the  influences  of  home, 
from  the  light  of  a  mother's  smiles,  and  where  the  gentle 
power  of  the  love  of  brothers  and  sisters  is  not  felt;  and 
add  to  this  the  small  compensation  for  their  labor,  and  their 
uncomfortable  lodging^s,  and  we  need  not  marvel  that  so 
many  who  go  to  our  large  cities  uncorrupted  soon  become 
familiar  with  vice  in  all  its  forms,  and  fall  victims  to  their 
passions. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  my  unhappy  friend.  Having 
no  amusement  at  his  lodgings,  he  sought  the  company  of  the 
multitude.  It  was  at  the  theatre  that  his  passions  were 
kindled  into  burning,  and  it  was  there  that  he  formed 
associations  which  led  him  into  dishonesty  and  crime.  For 
a  number  of  years  he  succeeded  in  concealing  the  appropria- 
tion made  of  his  employers'  funds  to  his  own  use,  until, 
emboldened,  he  ventured  upon  outlays  which  excited  suspi- 
cion and  induced  inquiry,  and  his  guilt  was  detected.  Find- 
ing that  a  prosecution  might  follow,  he  fled  ;  but  the  life  which 
he  had  led  had  already  shattered  his  constitution,  and  poisoned 
the  fountain  of  health.  Soon  after  he  was  more  seriously 
smitten  with  disease,  and  he  returned  home  to  die.  For  a 
number  of  weeks  did  I  visit  him ;  and  often,  when  seated  by 
his  bedside,  I  discovered  the  workings  of  intense  anguish 


VALUE  AND  IMMORTALITY  OP  THE  SOUL.     259 

in  his  countenance.  But  as  I  was  ignorant  of  his  guilt,  and 
accustomed  to  regard  him  as  one  possessed  not  only  of  a 
brilliant  mind,  but  also  of  a  virtuous  character,  I  ascribed 
those  indications  of  distress  to  bodily  anguish.  After 
repeated  efforts  to  learn  his  views  on  the  subject  of  religion 
and  his  preparation  for  eternity,  in  which  I  failed,  I  had 
painful  misgivings  as  to  the  correctness  of  the  opinion  which 
I  had  formed  of  his  character.  A  few  weeks  had  passed 
away,  and  my  anxiety  for  his  soul  increased,  as  I  could  dis- 
cover no  change  for  the  better  in  his  body  or  mind.  One 
day  a  messenger  came  in  great  haste,  and,  weeping,  begged 
my  immediate  attention  to  poor  L.  I  hastened  to  the 
presence  of  the  dying  man  ;  and  the  first  words  that  fell 
upon  my  ear  as  I  entered  the  room  were,  "  0,  my  friend,  I 
am  lost!  I  am  lost!"  I  drew  near  and  took  hold  of  his 
hand,  and  began  to  speak  to  him  of  the  mercy  and  compas- 
sion of  God.  I  told  him  of  the  tenderness  of  Jesus,  and 
of  the  many  promises  and  invitations  he  had  left  to  the 
penitent  guilty.  I  assured  him  that  He  was  a  great  and 
compassionate  Redeemer ;  —  that  He  was  not  only  willing, 
"  but  mighty  to  save  to  the  uttermost,  all  that  come  unto 
God  through  him."  But  to  all  that  I  could  urge  he  replied, 
*' it  is  too  late!  too  late!"  I  brought  before  his  mind  the 
thief  upon  the  cross,  upon  whom  Christ  had  mercy,  and 
entreated  him  to  call  upon  the  Saviour  for  pardon,  but  he 
would  not  pray.  I  besought  him  then,  to  repeat  after  me 
such  petitions  as  I  might  offer,  and  he  still  refused  ;  and 
finally  I  urged  him  by  the  relation  I  sustained  to  him,  and 


THE   SEPULCHRE   REMINDS   US    OF  THB 

the  solemn  realities  of  that  eternity  into  which  he  was  aboul 
to  enter,  to  pronounce  the  publican's  prayer,  "  God  be  merciful 
to  me,  a  sinner  ;"  and  told  him  how  even  one  earnest  believ- 
ing prayer  might  open  the  gate  of  heaven  to  that  soul  which 
throws  itself  upon  the  bleeding  sacrifice  of  Calvary ;  but  he 
would  not.  With  an  oppressed  heart  I  bowed  myself  in 
supplication  before  the  Lord,  for  my  poor  friend,  and  having 
commended  him  to  the  favor  and  clemency  of  a  merciful 
Sovereign,  I  rose  and  took  my  departure ;  but  before  I 
reached  my  carriage,  a  messenger  recalled  me.  As  soon  as 
I  entered  his  chamber,  he  ordered  all  his  attendants  and 
friends  to  retire  and  leave  us  alone.  After  they  had  all  with- 
drawn, he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  me  with  great  earnestness,  and 
thus  addressed  me:  "Mr.  A.,  you  will  remember  that  you 
are  in  the  chamber  of  death,  and  what  you  are  about  to  hear, 
is  from  the  lips  of  a  dying  man,  who  has  no  motive  to 
deceive.  I  cannot  go  to  eternity  with  this  burden  on  my 
soul,  and  therefore,  I  sent  for  you  to  make  certain  disclosures 
of  my  life."  He  then  gave  a  statement  of  his  past  history, 
which  I  will  not  repeat.  At  the  conclusion  of  this  confession, 
he  drew  me  nearer  o  his  pillow,  and  then  in  tones  which 
seemed  the  concentration  of  despair,  he  added  —  "O  ray 
friend,  I  am  damned."  I  again  endeavored  as  well  as  I 
could  (for  I  was  overcome  with  his  distress),  to  kindle  hope 
in  that  desolate  heart.  I  suggested  to  him  that  these  feelings 
might  perhaps  be  nothing  more  than  sudden  terror,  induced 
by  his  situation,  or  his  mind  might  be  wandering ;  but  to  ah 
I  could   say  he  answered  emphatically  and  firmly  in  the 


VALUE  AND  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL.     261 

negative.  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  my  mind  was  never  clearer  than 
it  is  at  this  moment ;  I  am  capable  of  appreciating  the  kind- 
ness of  your  instructions,  but  I  know  my  situation,  hell  has 
commenced  its  torments  ;"  and  placing  his  hand  upon  his 
bosom,  he  said,  with  unutterable  anguish  —  "  it  is  here,  hell 
is  already  here.''^  He  then  turned  to  me,  and  taking  my 
hand,  he  thanked  me  for  my  attention  to  him,  and  said,  "  Go 
now,  my  faithful  friend,  I  know  this  is  painful  to  you,"  and 
he  pressed  his  last  farewell.  A  few  hours  after  that  interview 
he  passed  into  eternity,  and  was  in  the  hands  of  a  merciful 
(iod. 

Painfully  vivid  is  that  scene  imprinted  upon  my  mind  ;  and 
often  have  I  re-examined  every  particular  connected  with  the 

last  hours  of  ray  kind  but  unhappy  friend  L ,  to  see  if  I 

could  not  gather  even  a  feeble  hope,  that  he  might  have  been 
under  the  influence  of  delirium  induced  by  bodily  pain  ;  but 
there  was  the  clear  eye,  flashing  with  all  the  steady  intelli- 
gence that  emanates  from  a  mind  acknowledging  the 
dominion  of  reason,  and  just  as  he  had  looked  a  thousanil 
times  upon  me.  I  have  but  one  observation  to  make  in 
connection  wuth  this  melancholy,  but  unembellished  record 
of  the  last  hours  of-  an  amiable  and  gifted  young  man,  and  it 
is  this.  If  the  testimony  of  the  dying  in  relation  to  worldly 
business  is  received  in  the  highest  courts  of  human  judicature, 
as  the  most  reliable  evidence  which  can  be  produced  in  a 
cause  that  is  tried,  are  we  not  warranted  to  regard  such  testi- 
mony when  it  relates  to  the  nature  and  destiny  of  the 
soul   as   stamped   with    the    most    undoubted   veracity  ?     I 


262  THE   SEPULCHRE   REMINDS   US   OF   THE 

confess  that  to  my  mind  those  premonitions  of  tlie  realities 
of  a  coming  eternity,  constitute  an  incontrovertible  proof  of 
the  soul's  immortality. 

But  another  argument  for  the  endless  existence  of  man's 
spiritual  being,  may  be  drawn  from  the  nature  of  material 
substances  at  which  I  have  already  hinted.  It  is  universally 
conceded  by  philosophers  that  matter  is  indestructible.  You 
may  change  its  form  and  diminish  its  bulk,  but  you  cannot 
destroy  it.  The  oak  of  centuries  may  be  hewn  down  and 
reduced  to  ashes,  but  this  is  only  changing  its  form,  and  not 
annihilating  its  material  properties.  The  water  which  flowed 
in  its  pores  will  be  exhaled  into  the  air ;  the  clouds  will  carry 
it  on  swift  wing  to  the  far-off  mountain,  where  they  shed  it 
down  to  feed  the  fountain  which  replenishes  the  stream  that 
carries  its  tribute  of  waters  to  the  ocean.  The  heat  which 
it  contained  will  pass  into  that  mass  of  caloric  which  W'arras 
the  earth  and  promotes  the  growth  of  plants  and  trees.  And 
thus  all  the  solids  and  fluids  of  that  oak  are  minglinsr  again 
with  those  kindred  elements  which  produce  another  of  its 
kind.  And  if  such  be  the  privilege  and  mission  of  matter, 
is  the  presumption  reasonable  that  the  spirit  in  man,  the 
immediate  offspring  of  Deity,  should  sink  into  a  cheerless 
nonenity  after  its  connection  with  the  body  is  dissolved  ? 

"  Look  nature  through  :  'tis  revolution  all; 
All  change ;  no  death.     Day  follows  night,  and  night 
The  dying  day  ;   stars  rise,  and  set,  and  rise  ; 
Earth  takes  the  example.     See  the  summer  gay, 
With  her  green  chaplet  and  ambrosial  flowers, 
Droops  into  pallid  autumn :  winter  grey 


VALUE    AND    IMxMOllTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL.  263 

Horrid  with  frost,  and  turbulent  with  storm, 

Blows  Autuiiiu  and  his  golden  fruits  away, 

Then  melts  into  the  spring ;  soft  spring,  with  breath 

Favonian,  from  warm  chambers  of  the  south, 

Recalls  the  tirst.     All,  to  reflourish,  fades ; 

As  in  a  wheel,  all  sinks  to  reascend, 

Emblems  of  man,  who  passes,  not  expires." 

This  imaofe  is  as  charminfj  as  it  is  true  of  our  life  and 
destiny.  As  all  things  in  nature  die  only  to  live  again,  and 
as  the  stars  of  heaven  retire  from  our  view  to  shine  on  other 
lands,  so  man  dieth  that  he  may  rise  to  a  nobler  existence ; 
and  the  liffht  of  his  soul  is  withdrawn  from  observers  on 
earth  that  it  may  shine  among  the  blessed  in  God's  presence 
forever.  And  is  it  not  consoling  to  bereaved  ones  to  know 
that  their  departed  live  ?  O,  yes,  that  beautiful  immortality 
which  is  not  obscured  by  a  cloud  nor  swept  by  a  single  storm 
can  rebuild  our  wrecked  happiness ;  for  even  its  hope,  that 
glows  within  our  souls,  brings  to  the  weary  and  faint  refresh- 
ing draughts  from  the  river  that  flows  from  the  midst  of  the 
throne  of  God  and  the  Lamb.  For  we  know  that  our  sainted 
are  gone,  and  that  we  are  following  after  to  that  cloudless 
home  where  decay  and  blight  never  fall  upon  the  inhabitants, 
but  where  all  flourish  in  immortal  bloom  ;  so  that  the  brief 
existence  here,  and  all  the  calamities  which  darken  it,  shrink 
into  insigniticance  when  placed  by  the  side  of  that  glowing 
immortality  for  which  all  the  holy  are  destined. 

The  immortality  of  the  soul  may  also  be  inferred  from  its 
constitutional  frame-work.  There  is  nothing  in  all  material 
and  animated  nature  that  resembles  it  in  its  structure.  What 
a  noble  being  it  is !     How  unlike  all  other  objects !     Behold 


264  THE    SEPULCHRE    REMINDS    US    OF    THE 

its  reasoning  faculties  —  the  judgment,  the  will,  the  imagina- 
tion, the  memory,  and  conscience.  All  these  powers  per- 
form distinct  functions,  yet  act  in  concert,  and  produce 
amazing  results.  Reason  solves  the  most  difficult  problems  ; 
and  its  deductions  are  adopted  or  rejected,  according  to  the 
dictates  of  conscience.  The  memory  is  its  great  store-house 
where  its  treasures  accumulate,  and  are  hoarded  for 
eternity.  The  imagination  wings  its  flight  through  immen- 
sity, and  gathers  within  its  circling  sweep  the  universe.  The 
thoughts  and  affections  soar  into  the  sanctities  of  heaven,  and 
with  bright  spirits,  cluster  around  the  throne  of  eternal  love. 
It  is  fitted  for  reflection  ;  and  its  meditations  may  compass 
earth  and  heaven,  and  range  from  the  worm  to  the  archangel, 
and  from  the  flowers  of  the  field  to  those  which  are  "  the 
poetry  of  the  skies."  Its  contemplations  may  stretch  from 
the  newly-created  Eden,  flushed  in  its  sinless  glory,  to  the 
smoulderinsf  wreck  from  which  the  "  new  earth "  shall  rise 
resplendent  with  righteousness.  It  is  qualified  to  hold 
communion  with  other  intelligences  distinguished  or  humble 
in  the  distant  past  or  the  far-off' future,  with  men,  with  angels, 
and  with  God.  Surely  such  a  wonderful  structure  was  not 
reared  by  Almighty  power  to  be  shattered  by  the  stroke  of 
death  into  a  heap  of  ruins,  before  it  had  time  to  fill  out  its 
immense  proportions.  Is  it  possible  that  the  soul's  destiny 
lies  within  the  limits  of  this  earthly  existence  ?  Would  such 
a  supposition  be  in  harmony  with  reason,  and  consonant 
with  that  plan  of  Divine  procedure  which  we  witness  in  His 
other  creations?     It  is  incredible,  because  in  conflict  with 


VALUE  AND  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL.      265 

those  great  and  \Yise  principles  which  run  through  all  His 
works  and  government.  For,  what  do  we  see  in  the  soul  ? 
A  being  which  has  upon  it  the  marks  of  an  incipient  great- 
ness and  grandeur  which  must  not  only  burst  all  mortal 
fetters  and  earthly  limits,  but  which  clearly  demand  a  bound- 
less eternity  for  their  appropriate  development  and  full 
maturity.  There  are  the  dawnings  of  a  splendor,  and  the 
magnificence  of  a  glory  in  its  intellectual  and  moral  exercises, 
which  infallibly  intimate  a  future  and  higher  sphere  of 
activity,  in  which  these  will  rise  to  their  true  dignity,  and 
radiate  their  destined  effulgence.  All  the  aspirations  and 
impulses  of  the  mind  clamor  for  enlargement.  Like  a 
fettered  prisoner,  it  is  impatient  of  its  bonds,  and  labors  to 
burst  those  barriers  which  now  circumscribe  the  compass  of 
its  action.  It  spurns  all  the  offerings  of  earth  as  utterly  un- 
suited  to  fill  its  immense  capacities,  or  to  furnish  it  with  that 
largeness  of  bliss  for  which  it  yearns.  Its  desires  and  affec- 
tions are  so  insatiable,  and  seek  for  such  an  exalted  good, 
that  they  pass  above  and  beyond  all  earthly  pomp  and  all 
human  greatness,  to  gather  within  their  compass  God  and 
eternity. 

We  regard,  therefore,  this  peculiarity  of  the  soul  as  one 
which  adds  force  to  our  argument,  viz. :  that,  unlike  all  the 
creatures  around  it,  it  never  attains  to  its  full  maturity  on 
earth.  When  we  examine  the  animal  and  insect  tribes  which 
throng  this  world,  we  discover  that  unless  their  existence  is 
violently  cut  short,  they  all  arrive  at  the  perfection  of  their 
being.  The  fowls  of  the  air  and  the  beasts  of  the  field  are 
23 


266  THE    SEPULCHRE   REMINDS   US   OF   THE 

now  what  they  have  always  been.  The  law  of  instinct  which 
guides  them  to  the  food  suited  to  their  natures,  remains 
unchanged.  The  plumage  of  the  eagle  and  of  the  dove,  as 
well  as  their  dispositions  and  habits,  are  the  same  now  as 
when  they  left  paradise  to  roam  over  the  earth.  The  swallow 
builds  her  nest  in  the  same  manner  as  when  she  found  a 
place  for  her  young  near  the  altar  of  God.  The  stork  and 
the  ant  afford  now  the  same  instruction  to  the  thoughtless 
and  slothful,  as  when  Jeremiah  and  Solomon  cited  their 
conduct  as  a  reproof  to  Israel.  The  beaver  has  made  no 
improvement  in  the  building  of  his  dam,  nor  the  bee  in 
forming  the  honey-comb,  since  these  creatures  first  com- 
menced their  toil.  And  the  pursuits  and  instincts  of  all  the 
inferior  animated  creation,  are  precisely  the  same  as  they 
were  six  thousand  years  ago.  They  arrive  in  a  given  time 
ranging  from  a  moment  to  a  few  years,  at  a  point  beyond 
which  none  of  their  kind  will  ever  pass.  But  it  is  not  so 
with  man :  he  knows  not  what  a  full-grown  soul  is.  From 
paradise  onward  to  the  present  period,  there  has  been  a 
steady  improvement  in  all  that  relates  to  the  human  species. 
Agriculture,  arts,  government,  commerce  and  education  have 
all  risen  from  a  feeble  and  imperfect  infancy,  to  their  present 
advancement,  and  all  of  them  are  daily  pushing  towards  a 
higher  degree  of  perfection.  The  range  of  human  knowledge 
has  been  widening  from  age  to  age,  and  man's  intellectual 
and  moral  exertions  are  enlarging  as  the  race  advances  in 
civilization  and  religion.  And  in  this  we  find  conclusive 
proof,  that  all  the  elements  of  our  spiritual  being  are  suscep- 


VALUE  AND  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL.     267 

tible  of  indefinite  improvement,  and  that  upon  all  the  intel- 
lectual and  moral  faculties  of  man,  there  is  written  the  law* 
of  unlimited  progress,  which  furnishes  an  impregnable 
argument  for  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  For  if  all  things 
else  which  have  come  from  the  hands  of  the  infinitely  perfect 
Creator,  grovv'  in  conformity  with  those  laws  which  govern 
their  existence  until  they  have  passed  into  full  maturity ;  is  it 
presumptuous  to  claim  the  same  destiny  for  the  soul,  the 
noblest  of  all  His  works  ?  Can  the  thought  be  entertained, 
or  the  stupendous  folly  find  an  advocate,  that  an  all-wise 
God  would  annihilate  the  spirit  that  claims  kindred  with 
Himself,  and  that  too,  before  it  has  reached  the  grand  theatre 
of  its  immortal  exertions  ?  Perish  the  thought,  for  it  has  no 
foundation  but  in  those  corruptions  of  man,  which  make  him 
afraid  to  live.  Every  theory  which  predicates  the  extinction 
of  the  soul,  is  insane,  at  war  with  the  Divine  character, 
and  in  conflict  with  all  our  conceptions  of  the  fitness  of  things. 
Our  consciousness,  together  with  all  the  yearnings  of  our 
being,  rise  up  to  demonstrate  our  immortality.  And  this 
assurance  is  not  peculiar  to  men  of  the  present  generation, 
but  is  in  harmony  with  the  convictions  of  mankind  in  all  the 
past  ages  of  the  world.  There  is  no  nation,  whether  barba- 
rous or  civilized,  savage  or  cultivated,  pagan  or  Christian, 
that  has  not  left  memorials  of  its  faith  in  the  soul's  immortality. 
And  all  these  considerations  favourable  to  another  and  a 
better  life  beyond  the  grave,  are  confirmed  and  established 
by  the  holy  oracles.  The  scriptures  assure  us  that  when  God 
had  formed  man,  "  He  breathed  into  hira  the  breath  of  life^ 


268  THE   SEPULCHRE   REMINDS    US   OF   THE 

and  man  became  a  living  soul."  The  soul  is  therefore  the 
immediate  offspring  of  Deity,  a  spark  from  the  Infinite  Intelli- 
gence, a  part  of  the  Everlasting  God  ;  and  it  might  be  as 
easily  proved  that  He  who  formed  it  will  cease  to  exist,  as  to 
show  that  the  spirit  will  not  survive  the  WTeck  of  the  body. 
"  The  dust  shall  return  to  dust,  but  the  spirit  to  God  who 
gave  it."  The  Prophets,  our  Lord  Jesus,  and  His  Apostles, 
all  have  clearly  and  incontrovertibly  set  forth  this  doctrine. 
A  denial  of  our  immortality  would  divest  the  Bible  and  Pro- 
vidence of  their  solemn  investiture  and  awful  meaning,  and 
destroy  the  ground-work  of  Christianity,  while  it  would  leave 
us  no  assignable  reason  for  the  many  and  mighty  agencies 
now  in  force  to  fit  man  for  that  nobler  existence,  which  lies 
beyond  the  grave  and  which  is  immutably  certain. 

From  the  nature  and  destiny  of  the  soul,  we  may  draw 
invaluable  consolations  for  the  bereaved.  To  know  that  the 
souls  of  our  beloved  escape  unhurt  from  the  ruins  of  the 
body,  is  a  reflection  full  of  comfort.  To  be  assured  by  the 
profoundest  deductions  of  reason,  and  by  the  testimony  of 
Almighty  God,  that  the  departed,  if  possessed  of  those 
qualifications  of  purity  which  fit  them  for  heaven,  live  with 
Him  forever,  is  cheering  beyond  expression.  The  eagle 
which  escapes  from  its  cage,  soars  not  with  so  much  exultation 
into  his  native  skies,  as  those  weary  spirits  did  into  the 
presence  of  Jehovah.  But  among  the  many  consolatory 
reflections  with  which  the  bereaved  may  comfort  themselves, 
we  may  submit  the  following. 

They  should  remember  that  the  ransomed  are  delivered 


VALUE  AND  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL.     269 

from  all  those  impediments  to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge, 
which  embarrassed  their  efforts  on  earth.  Every  barrier  is 
broken  down  ;  every  obstruction  wliicli  hindered  the  inflows 
of  knowledge  removed.  And  as  knowledge  brings  pleasure, 
and  especially  that  which  consists  in  clear  perceptions  of  the 
Divine  character,  we  see  how  this  will  contribute  to  their  hap- 
piness. As  the  soul  moves  in  its  contemplations  over  the 
infinite  dimensions  of  its  eternal  home,  and  discovers  increased 
beauty  and  loveliness  in  all  its  progress  amid  the  illimitable 
wonders  of  Jehovah,  it  will  be  conscious  of  a  similar  enlarge- 
ment of  its  joy.  As  its  eye  darts  over  the  unveiled  glories  of 
immensity,  and  its  ear  drinks  in  the  melodies  of  heavenly 
rapture,  it  will  be  filled  with  a  corresponding  increase  of  bliss. 
The  redeemed  are  also  free  from  all  imperfections.  They 
will  have  no  sins  to  bewail,  no  errors  to  lament ;  but  as  they  are 
perfectly  holy,  they  are  perfectly  happy.  And  as  our  happiness 
is  proportionate  to  the  extent  and  purity  of  the  range  of  our 
intellectual  and  moral  faculties,  those  must  be  infinitely 
blessed,  from  whom  all  things  are  removed  which  could  in 
any  wise  interfere  with  their  exertions.  What  a  happy  con- 
dition is  theirs!  what  an  unclouded  and  unending  felicity  is 
their  portion !  When  a  beloved  child,  or  a  cherished  friend 
goes  to  a  distant  land,  and  we  receive  a  communication  in 
which  he  describes  the  healthfalness  of  the  climate,  the  beauty 
of  the  landscape,  the  richness  and  excellence  of  its  produc- 
tions, the  elevated  condition  of  society,  and  his  improved 
circumstances  and  still  brighter  prospects,  do  we  not  feel 
contented  when  we  know  that  he  who  languished  in  the 
23* 


270  THE    SEPULCHRE    REMINDS    US    OF   THE 

home  he  has  left,  now  enjoys  health  and  prosperity  ?  Such  a 
communication  of  the  happy  condition  of  the  sainted  has  God 
sent  us.  "  They  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more, 
neither  is  there  any  more  pain."  And  shall  not  these  utter- 
ances from  heaven  in  regard  to  the  glorified  ones  around 
God's  throne,  fill  us  with  a  pious  resignation  to  the  Divine 
will,  and  inspire  our  hearts  with  joy  and  peace  in  the  midst 
of  our  desolated  homes  ?  O  !  yes ;  we  may  comfort  ourselves, 
for  -although  they  have  died,  they  live  again,  and  that  forever. 
The  former  temple  is  in  ruins,  but  the  latter  into  which  they 
have  entered  is  more  glorious,  because  filled  with  the  presence 
and  glory  of  God.  And  should  not  the  fact  that  we  are  heirs 
of  the  same  immortality,  reconcile  us  to  the  aflflictions  and 
trials  which  are  needed  to  prepare  us  for  that  glorious  future  ? 
Should  not  the  prospect  of  entering  that  unbounded  scene  of 
glory  stretching  through  the  interminable  ages  of  eternity, 
kindle  such  purposes,  and  give  birth  to  such  a  course  of 
preparation  as  under  the  blessing  of  the  Holy  Spirit  will  fit  us 
to  reign  with  God  forever?  And  as  expectants  of  such 
a  destiny,  should  we  not  fly  from,  and  loathe  every  thing 
which  could  mar  the  hope  of  such  a  brilliant  future  ?  0  !  if 
we  are  the  "  adopted  children  of  God  and  heirs  with  Jesus 
Christ,"  then  are  w^e  more  highly  blest,  than  he  who  passes 
to  the  most  powerful  earthly  throne,  and  should  therefore 
rejoice  in  every  tribulation  which  diminishes  the  distance 
between  us  and  a  crown  of  life.  We  are  immortal,  and  what 
need  we  care  for  the  titled  distinctions  of  earth  ?  What  is 
the  grandeur  of  this  world  to  him  who  is  so  soon  to  enter 


VALUE  AND  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL.     271 

upon  an  immortality  full  of  glory?  God  grant,  that  through 
all  our  wanderings,  the  conviction  that  we  are  preparing  for 
a  blessed  or  wretched  futurity,  may  exert  its  restraining  and 
purifying  influences  upon  our  minds,  that  while  threading  our 
weary  pilgrimage  through  this  life,  we  may  realize  to  what  a 
noble  destiny  we  are  born.  And  may  the  truth  of  thy  death- 
less nature,  impenitent  reader,  hang  with  all  its  tremendous 
weight  and  significance  about  thy  heart,  until  that  heart 
becomes  contrite  and  holy,  for  — 

"  Immortality  o'ersweeps 

All  pains,  all  tears,  all  time,  all  fears,  and  peals 
Like  the  eternal  thunders  of  the  deep 
Into  thine  ears  this  truth  —  Thou  liv'st  forever," 


CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

THE  HOPE  OP  RESURRECTION  DIVESTS  THE  SE. 
PULCIIRE  OF  ITS  TERRORS,  AND  BRINGS  CONSO- 
LATION  TO    THE    BEREAVED. 


"  Blest  are  they 
That  earth  to  earth  entrust;  for  they  may  know 
And  tend  the  dwelling  ■whence  the  slumberer's  clay 
Shall  rise  at  last ;  and  bid  the  young  flowers  bloom, 
That  waft  a  breath  of  hope  around  the  tomb, 
And  kneel  upon  the  dewy  turf  and  pray." 


Sweetly  and  soothingly  did  those  words  of  hope  in  the 
burial  service,  "looking  for  the  general  resurrection  in  the 
last  day,  and  the  life  of  the  world  to  come,  through  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  shall  raise  his  followers  to  the 
participation  of  his  own  happiness  and  glory  in  heaven,"  fall 
upon  our  ears  when  we  stood  mournfully  by  the  open  graves 
of  our  departed.  They  breathed  a  reviving  influence  over 
our  anguished  hearts ;  and  on  wings  of  hope  did  our 
thoughts  speed  to  that  morn  which  shall  yet  burst  upon  our 
world,  when  Jesus  Christ  shall  come,  "  who  shall  change  our 
vile  body,  that  it  may  be  fashioned  like  unto  his  glorious 
body ;"  "  when  this  corruptible  shall   put  on  incorruption, 

(272) 


THE   HOPE    OF   RESURRECTION,  ETC.  273 

and  this  mortal,  immi)rtality;"  and  we  said,  "He  doeth  all 
things  well."  With  this  glorious  prospect  have  millions 
cheerfully  bid  farewell  to  earthly  friends  and  beloved  scenes, 
and  fallen  asleep  in  Jesus.  In  the  hope  of  the  resurrection 
have  bereaved  Christians  laid  parents,  husbands,  wives,  chil- 
dren, brothers,  and  sisters,  into  the  silent  grave  without  a 
murmur  against  Providence.  But  upon  what  basis  does  this 
hope  rest  ?  It  should  assuredly  be  broad  and  deep  to  sustain 
such  precious  interests  as  those  which  repose  upon  it. 
And  it  is  a  source  of  gratulation  to  know  that  neither  conjec- 
ture nor  analogy  forms  its  only  ground-work,  but  that  it  has 
for  its  foundation  the  Rock  of  immutable  truth.  The  resurrec- 
tion of  the  dead  is  emphatically  a  doctrine  of  revelation.  It 
lies  beyond  the  province  of  reason.  It  is  true  that  caution 
should  be  exercised  when  predicating  what  could,  or  could 
not,  fall  within  the  circle  of  human  discovery,  seeing  that  one 
age  cannot  fix  the  range  of  intellectual  research  for  another, 
forasmuch  as  the  mind  is  in  a  state  of  progression,  and  is  daily 
making  some  new  and  startling  discoveries.  Yet,  notwith- 
standing all  the  brilliant  triumphs  of  the  intellect  in  mechan- 
ism, in  science,  and  in  every  branch  of  learning  which  should 
check  the  presumptuous,  who  might  venture  to  fix  limits 
beyond  which  the  light  of  reason  could  never  travel,  it  is  not 
arrogant  to  assume  that  the  resurrection  of  the  body  is  one 
of  those  mysteries  which  would  have  escaped  our  knowledge 
had  not  the  light  of  revelation  shone  into  the  tomb.  It  is 
not  improbable  that  men,  in  all  ages,  had  their  conjectures, 
and  may  have  had  some  intimations  about  the  future  glorifica- 


274  THE   HOPE    OF   RESURRECTION 

tion  of  our  humanity.  This  appears  probable  from  two 
considerations.  First :  from  the  fact  that  the  iramortaUty  of  the 
soul  and  the  resurrection  of  the  body  are  intimately  blended. 
Man  could  not  conceive  of  the  soul  as  existing  in  the  spirit- 
Avorld  or  the  invisible  state,  independently  of  a  material 
organization.  We  always  invest  good  and  evil  spirits  widi 
some  bodily  form  which  is  present  to  our  perceptions  when 
we  think  of  them.  And  in  consequence  of  our  imperfect 
apprehensions  of  spiritual  beings,  even  God  is  present  in  our 
conceptions  of  Him  under  a  certain  form.  And,  therefore, 
"  His  fulness  "  is  said  "  to  dwell  in  Christ  bodily,"  while 
light  is  made  "the  garment  of  Deity,"  and  the  "  creation 
His  house."  Angels  are  represented  in  Scripture  under 
various  forms,  but  mostly  in  the  human,  with  appendages  of 
wings.  If  they  are  sent  as  ministers  of  wrath  to  execute  the 
judgments  of  heaven,  they  are  robed  in  warlike  armor,  or 
shrouded  in  the  tempest,  clothed  with  lightning,  or  moving 
in  the  pestilence.  The  angel  which  was  commissioned  to 
destroy  a  portion  of  Israel,  as  a  judgment  upon  David  for 
violating  the  command  of  God,  which  forbade  him  to 
number  the  people,  appeared  in  mid-heaven  over  Jerusalem, 
with  a  drawn  sword.  The  one  that  appeared  unto  Jacob  is 
described  as  a  man  wrestling  with  the  jDatriarch.  It  is  not 
necessary  for  us  here  to  inquire  whether  they  could,  or  could 
not  have  accomplished  their  work,  or  discharged  the  functions 
of  their  mission  in  a  viewless  and  impalpable  state  ;  but  it  is 
of  some  importance  for  us  to  know  that  when  they  did  make 
their  appearance  they  were  clothed  in  a  bodily  shape.     And 


BRINaS   CONSOLATION   TO   THE   BEREAVED.     .      275 

if  the  form  was  even  not  essential  to  the  execution  of  the 
Divine  purposes,  it  was  certainly  necessary  to  produce  the 
intended  eflect  upon  the  minds  of  those  who  were  to  be 
impressed  by  their  visible  appearance.  And  as  we  ascribe  a 
certain  form  to  angels,  so,  in  like  manner,  do  we  to  the  glori- 
fied in  heaven  whenever  we  think  of  them.  This  must 
always  be  the  case,  unless  we  adopt  the  Pantheistic  notion 
of  spirit,  which  maintains  that  the  soul,  as  soon  as  it  leaves 
the  body,  loses  its  identity,  and  dissolves  into  the  Divine 
essence.  But  this  would  be  in  conflict  with  our  individual 
consciousness  ;  for,  whenever  our  minds  wander  to  the  distant 
home  of  the  sainted,  and  we  see  them  in  their  adorations 
and  other  delightful  occupations  in  that  world  of  glory,  they 
have  the  same  forms  and  features  which  were  peculiar  to 
them  while  living.  The  ancient  Egyptians,  who  believed  in 
the  indestructibility  of  the  soul,  supposed  that  when  it 
quitted  the  body  it  passed  into  some  animal,  and  after  its 
death  into  another,  and  so  on,  until  it  had  performed  a  trans- 
migratory  course  of  three  thousand  years,  and  was  then 
absorbed  by  Deity.  And  the  doctrine  of  transmigration, 
doubtless,  originated  in  the  impossibility  of  conceiving  of 
the  soul's  existence  independently  of  a  bodily  form ;  and 
regarding  it  as  unfit  to  pass  directly  from  its  first  habitation 
into  the  Divine  nature,  they  sent  it  upon  this  long  pilgrimage 
to  obtain  the  necessary  purity  before  it  could  be  commingled 
with  God.  All  nations,  moreover,  exhibited  great  reverence 
for  the  remains  of  their  departed.  Some  embalmed  their 
dead  ;  and   otliers   who  burned  the  mortal  remains  of  their 


276     .  THE    HOPE    OF    RESURRECTION 

friends,  carefully  collected  the  ashes  and  put  them  into  urns, 
which  were  religiously  preserved ;  while  those  who  buried 
their  dead  manifested  an  equal  regard  for  the  mouldering 
dust  of  beloved  ones.  And  why  was  all  this  care,  and  to 
what  can  we  ascribe  this  reverence  for  the  ashes  of  their 
kindred,  if  they  had  not  some  dim  conceptions  of  a 
mysterious  destiny  which  they  believed  to  hang  around  the 
body?  While,  therefore,  we  regard  the  resurrection  of  the 
dead  as  a  doctrine  which  never  could  have  been  clearly 
understood  without  the  light  of  revelation,  we  cannot  escape 
the  conviction  that  a  vague  impression  of  some  future 
resuscitation  and  glorification  of  the  human  body  was  at  all 
times  present  to  the  consciousness  of  mankind. 

But  let  us  dismiss  all  conjecture,  and  pass  out  from  the 
field  of  uncertainty,  to  tread  that  sure  ground  on  which  the 
light  of  God's  infallible  word  shines.  We  will  take  the  holy 
oracles  of  truth,  "  as  a  lamp  to  our  feet,  and  a  light  to  our 
path,"  in  our  examination  of  this  subject.  It  has  been 
asserted  by  some  eminent  Biblical  critics,  that  there  are  no 
traces  of  this  doctrine  in  the  early  Hebrew  Scriptures.  They 
profess  their  inability  to  find  it  in  the  Pentateuch,  the  books 
of  Samuel,  Kings,  Job,  the  Psalms  and  others.  Without 
controverting  the  views  which  these  writers  have  advanced 
on  a  number  of  passages  in  the  Psalms,  in  which  Theodoret 
and  many  other  distinguished  men  believe  there  is  a  clear 
recognition  of  the  doctrine,  we  are  reluctant  to  yield, 
without  a  struggle,  that  well-known  and  beautiful  passage  in 
Job,  which  speaks  so  pointedly  on  this  subject.     I  cheerfully 


BEINGS    CONSOLATION    TO    THE    BEREAVED  277 

grant  that  we  should  be  slow  to  hold  an  interpretation  of  any 
passage  of  scripture,  which  is  in  direct  conflict  with  the  views 
of  such  men  as  Jahn,  Eichorn,  De  Wette,  Grotius,  Le  Clerk 
and  others  ;  but  as  the  right  of  opinion  is  inalienable,  so  is 
the  liberty  of  expressing  our  convictions  unimpaired  by  any 
amount  of  testimony,  however  respectable,  which  may  stand 
opposed  to  our  views.  And  we  cannot  but  believe  that  some 
more  recent  commentators  have  adopted  the  interpretation  of 
these  theologians  of  this  passage,  rather  from  the  want  of 
independence  of  thought,  than  from  obedience  to  their  con- 
victions ;  for  great  names  are  invested  with  a  secret  power 
^vhich  often  insensibly  determines  the  mind  in  favor  of  their 
views.  Notwithstanding,  then,  the  number  of  learned  ex- 
positors who  regard  the  language  of  Job  in  the  nineteenth 
chapter,  25,  26,  and  27th  verses,  as  expressing  a  hope  of  his 
restoration  to  bodily  health,  and  deliverance  from  the  pressure 
of  his  calamities,  we  are  clearly  of  the  opinion  that  he  had 
reference  to  the  resurrection  of  his  body  from  the  grave.  It 
is  maintained  by  those  who  differ  from  this  view,  that  such 
an  interpretation  does  not  fall  in  with  the  design  of  the  poem, 
the  whole  argument  of  which  is  based  upon  a  misconception 
of  the  design  of  affliction.  Granting  that  the  friends  of  Job 
labored  under  a  misconception  of  the  cause  and  object  of 
affliction,  and  that  this  was  the  basis  of  the  argument,  it  does 
not  follow  that  every  part  and  passage  of  the  entire  produc- 
tion must  necessarily  and  rigidly  conform  to  the  design  of  the 
poem.  There  are  many  things  incidentally,  and  sometimes 
designedly  mentioned,  ay,  doctrines  statea  and  illustrated 
24 


278  THE    HOPE    OF    KESURRECTION 

in  this  and  almost  every  other  book  extant,  which  would  be 
deprived  of  their  legitimate  meaning  under  the  force  of  this 
rule.  All  who  read  the  Scriptures  with  ordinary  attention, 
are  familiar  with  the  fact,  that  the  inspired  writers  are  often 
very  sudden  and  even  abrupt  in  their  transitions  from  one 
subject  to  another.  Take,  as  an  illustration,  the  Psalms,  and 
many  of  the  Prophecies,  where  the  particular  design  of  the 
writer  cannot  be  misapprehended,  and  yet  we  frequently  find 
in  the  midst  of  a  prophecy,  the  statement  of  some  general 
doctrine,  or  the  utterance  of  some  glorious  and  startling  truth, 
not  legitimately  connected  with  its  primary  design.  But, 
perhaps,  with  the  large  majority  of  men,  this  passage  itself  is 
its  best  vindication.  There  it  stands  out  luminous  upon  the 
ancient  book,  as  a  beacon-light  in  a  dark  world  ;  and  to 
assign  to  it  a  different  meaning  from  that  which  lies  so 
obviously  on  its  surface,  would  be  to  obscure  one  of  the 
brightest  gems  upon  that  oldest  of  all  records.  After  touch- 
ing appeals  to  his  friends,  to  awaken  their  sympathies  in  view 
of  his  afflictions,  which  to  all  human  appearance  were  rapidly 
carrying  him  to  the  grave,  he  gives  utterance  to  the  assu- 
rances of  his  faith.  "  For  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth, 
and  that  he  shall  stand  at  the  latter  day  upon  the  earth,  and 
though  after  my  skin  worms  destroy  this  body,  yet  in  my  flesh 
shall  I  see  God,  whom  I  shall  see  for  myself  and  not  another, 
though  my  reins  be  consumed  within  me."  As  it  is  not  my 
object  to  enter  into  an  extended  discussion  of  this  passage,  I 
will  simply  remark  that  he  could  speak  with  as  much 
certainty  of  his  resurrection,  as  he  could  of  his  restoration  to 


BRINQS   CONSOLATION   TO   THE   BEREAVED.  279 

health  ;  inasmuch  as,  in  either  case,  he  could  only  predict 
such  ail  event  under  the  tuition  and  inspiration  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  Both  events  were  involved  in  the  obscurity  of  the 
future,  and  his  recovery  from  affliction  was  not  more 
probable  than  his  resurrection  from  the  grave.  And  many 
other  considerations  might  be  added,  which  would  multiply 
the  difficulties  of  the  other  interpretation.  And  why  should 
we  blot  out  one  of  the  first  and  most  brilliant  lights  that  shines 
out  of  the  bosom  of  antiquity,  to  disperse  the  gloom  of  the 
sepulchre,  and  to  cheer  the  afflicted  and  dying  with  the  sure 
conviction  that  they  have  a  living  Redeemer  who  will  rebuild 
the  fallen  tabernacle  of  the  soul  at  the  last  great  day  ;  and  this, 
too,  because  in  the  estimation  of  a  few,  the  doctrine  of  the 
resurrection  falls  not  in  with  the  design  of  the  poem.  No ! 
we  will  not,  we  cannot  so  easily  and  upon  such  slight 
grounds,  surrender  it.  Our  affections  cling  to  it,  and  we  will 
rear  a  wall  of  living,  hopeful,  and  believing  hearts  around  it, 
that  shall  cherish  it  as  a  precious  legacy  from  our  heavenly 
father. 

From  this  brief  notice  of  the  testimony  of  the  book  of 
Job  in  favor  of  the  resurrection,  we  will  direct  the  attention 
of  the  reader  to  such  proofs  as  are  undisputed.  The 
passages  are  numerous,  clear,  specific,  and  incontrovertible, 
in  which  this  doctrine  is  taught.  In  the  prophecy  of  Isaiah 
it  is  written  :  "  Thy  dead  men  shall  live  ;  together  with  my 
dead  body  shall  they  arise  ;  awake  and  sing,  ye  that  dwell  in 
the  dust,  for  thy  dew  is  as  the  dew  of  herbs,  and  the  earth 
shall  cast  out  the  dead."   In  Ezekiel,  chap.  37,  we  have  a  vivid 


280  THE    HOPE    OF   RESURKECTION 

pictvire  of  the  restoration  to  national  existence  and  prosperity 
of  Israel,  wasted  and  broken  by  their  captivity  ;  but  while 
this  was  unquestionably  the  primary  design  of  that  prophecy, 
it  also  proclaimed  the  power  and  purpose  of  God,  as  these 
will  be  illustrated  in  the  general  resurrection  of  the  dead. 
But  this  doctrine,  like  the  promises  of  the  Messiah,  grows 
clearer  as  we  come  down  from  the  beginning  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  plan  of  Redemption,  until  it  bursts  upon  the 
world  in  all  its  elFulgence.  In  Daniel  it  is  announced,  "And 
many  of  them  that  sleep  in  the  dust  of  the  earth  shall  awake  ; 
some  to  everlasting  life,  and  some  to  shame  and  everlasting 
contempt."  This  passage  is  easily  understood  without  any 
comment. 

But  whatever  may  have  been  the  alleged  obscurity  in 
which  this  doctrine  is  involved  in  the  Old  Testament,  it 
manifestly  forms  one  of  the  most  prominent  of  the  Gospel. 
It  was  the  frequent  theme  of  discourse  both  of  our  Lord  and 
His  Apostles.  Among  the  many  declarations  of  the  fact 
itself,  His  address  to  the  inquiring  Greeks  who  sought  Him 
at  Jerusalem,  is  designed  to  illustrate  this  great  mystery. 
The  splendor  of  His  miracles,  and  the  wisdom  of  His  dis- 
courses had  spread  his  fame  far  and  wide.  Never  had  it 
been  known  among  men  that  a  mere  word  recalled  the  dead 
to  life  ;  that  disease  shrank  from  the  presence  and  bidding  of 
man  ;  and  that  a  mere  touch  opened  the  eyes  of  the  blind, 
or  caused  the  warm  blood  to  resume  its  circulation  in  the 
withered  arm,  before  Jesus  of  Nazareth  appeared  in  Judea. 
Need  we  wonder,  then,  that  these  miracles,  in  connection 


BRINGS   CONSOLATION   TO    THE    BEREAVED.  281 

with  the  discourses  of  our  Lord,  attracted  even  the  Greeks, 
who,  perhaps,  hoped  to  find  in  Him  the  messenger  for  whom 
their  Plato  longed,  when  he  said,  "  We  have  need  that  one 
of  the  gods  should  teach  us."  And  as  His  hour  of  suffer- 
ing was  near,  and  all  who  had  come  to  Jerusalem  would 
witness  His  crucifixion,  it  was  fiit  that  He  should  prepare  the 
minds  of  His  hearers  for  that  event,  lest  His  death  might 
stagger  and  overthrow  their  faith.  "Verily,  verily,  I  say 
unto  you,  except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall  into  the  ground  and 
die,  it  abideth  alone  ;  but  if  it  die,*it  bringeth  forth  much 
fruit.  He  that  loveth  his  life  shall  lose  it;  and  he  that 
hateth  his  life  in  this  world  shall  keep  it  unto  life  eternal.  If 
any  man  serve  me,  let  him  follow  me ;  and  where  I  am, 
there  shall  also  be  my  servant."  Here  He  brings  forward 
the  resurrection  as  the  broad  foundation  upon  which  the  hope 
of  His  followers  should  repose.  A  doctrine,  perhaps,  some- 
what startling  to  the  Greeks,  but  only  the  full  utterance  of 
what  sometimes  seemed  obscurely  present  in  their  philosophy. 
For  all  nations  who  had  among  them  those  who  were  given 
to  profound  meditation  and  study,  generally  conceived 
Nature  to  be  animated  by  the  breath  of  the  Almighty,  and 
sustained  by  an  invisible  and  eternal  energy ;  and,  therefore, 
might  recognise  in  its  various  phenomena  symbols  of 
those  truths  which  pertained  to  the  spiritual  world;  and 
particularly  might  the  revivification  of  things  dead  in 
Nature  suggest  a  similar  return  to  life  of  the  body  which 
sank  into  the  tomb.  But  if  this  might  be  deemed  too 
great  a  triumph  even  for  profound  thinkers,  it  will  not  be 
24* 


282  THE    HOPE    OF    KESUREECTION 

denied  that  the  distance  which  they  had  travelled  by  the  light 
of  reason  was  so  much  of  an  approach  to  the  great  truth,  that 
it  had  fitted  their  minds  for  the  announcement  of  this  doctrine 
of  Christianity.  They  were  not  ignorant  that  they  must  die, 
but  granting  that  they  had  no  knowledge  of  that  life  which 
springs  forth  afresh  from  death  ;  they  yet  saw  the  same  thing 
continually  transpiring  in  Nature,  and  it  was,  therefore,  not  so 
difficult  to  believe  that  a  like  privilege  awaited  man.  The 
seed  must  rot  in  the  earth  if  it  is  to  be  reproduced ;  and  thus 
man  must  submit  to  this  inevitable  law  of  Nature,  and 
undergo  a  change  in  the  tomb  if  he  would  live  forever.  In 
view  of  such  considerations.  His  death  and  burial,  as  our 
great  forerunner,  had  nothing  in  them  ultimately  to  overthrow 
the  faith  of  His  disciples ;  forasmuch  as  He  rose  from  the 
tomb  and  reappeared  to  them,  and  ascended  with  His  glori- 
fied humanity  to  heaven,  thus  opening  for  his  followers  a 
passage  from  this  world  to  a  glorious  immortality.  This 
illustration,  then,  with  which  the  Saviour  has  furnished  us, 
divests  death  of  its  horrors,  and  takes  away  much  of  its 
bitterness,  and  even  makes  it  desirable,  since  it  has  become 
the  only  passage  to  a  blessed  future. 

The  truth  of  this  doctrine  is  then  based  upon  God's  infal- 
lible word.  Jesus  Christ  in  the  passage  already  cited,  as  also 
in  a  multitude  of  others,  distinctly  avows  and  declares  that 
the  dead  shall  rise.  "  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life  ;  he 
that  believeth  in  me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live." 
"  The  hour  is  coming  in  the  which  all  that  are  in  their  graves 
shall  hear  his  voice  ;  and  shall  come  forth,  they  that  have 


BRINGS    CONSOLATION   TO   THE   BEREAVED.  283 

done  good  unto  the  resurrection  of  life,  and  they  that  have 
done  evil  unto  the  resurrection  of  damnation."  "  And  this 
is  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  me,  that  every  one  which  seeth 
the  Son  and  believeth  on  him,  may  have  everlasting  life,  and 
I  will  raise  him  up  at  the  last  day."  He  confirmed  the  truth 
of  these  and  similar  declarations  in  the  dominion  He  mani- 
fested over  death  and  decay,  by  restoring  to  life  the  son  of 
the  widow  of  Nain  and'  others ;  but  especially  in  raising 
Lazarus,  who  had  been  four  days  in  the  tomb.  But  this 
doctrine  is  rendered  impregnable  by  Ms  own  resurrection 
from  the  grave.  That  his  crucifixion  resulted  in  death,  there 
can  be  no  question.  And  even  shameless  infidelity  ought  to 
blush,  for  uttering  a  contrary  opinion.  It  is  a  pity  that  men 
whose  corruptions  compel  them  to  be  infidels,  should  attempt 
to  impeach  history.  It  is  not  manly  to  question  the  truth  of 
well-authenticated  records,  and  this  W'Ould  never  have  been 
attempted  in  the  present  case,  did  not  infidelity  divest  its 
votaries  of  all  the  exalted  attributes  which  belong  to  noble 
minds.  Who  could  really  believe  that  He  was  not  dead  ? 
He  was  in  the  hands  of  His  enemies,  and  was  subjected  to 
such  torture  and  suflfering,  that  it  is  as  idle  as  it  is  wicked  for 
those  hostile  to  Christianity  to  deny  the  fact.  And  that  He 
rose  and  frequently  appeared  to  His  disciples  prior  to  His 
ascension  to  heaven,  is  as  well  attested  as  any  other  historical 
fact  which  has  ever  been  offered  to  the  faith  of  mankind. 
Those  who  have  testified  to  His  resurrection,  could  have  had 
no  motive  to  deceive  themselves  and  others;  for  their  identifi- 
cation  with   Christianity  was   not   the    result   of  ambitious 


284  THE   HOPE    OF   RESURRECTION 

aspirings,  or  the  prospect  of  worldly  honor  or  gain,  but  an 
honest  conviction  of  its  truth.  What  inducement  could  there 
have  been  to  sacrifice  their  earthly  all  and  peril  their  lives, 
simply  to  fasten  an  imposture  upon  the  world  ?  Could  men 
brave  the  terrors  of  martyrdom,  the  gloom  of  prisons,  and  the 
tortures  of  the  rack,  whose  hopes  of  immortality  were  ground 
less  upon  the  supposition  that  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  was 
not  true  ?  The  witnesses  to  its  truth  were  also  of  unimpeach- 
able character,  and  whatever  their  enemies  might  have 
thought  and  said  of  their  religion,  they  could  not  allege  any 
thing  against  the  character  of  the  disciples.  They  gave 
ample  proof  of  their  integrity  and  conscientiousness  in  all 
their  convictions.  And  that  they  were  competent  to  give  a 
truthful  testimony  on  this  subject,  is  evident  from  the  fact  that 
they  had  been  the  intimate  companions  of  Jesus  for  three 
years,  and  had  a  thousand  times  looked  upon  His  person  and 
heard  his  voice  ;  and  when  he  appeared  to  them  for  the  first 
time  in  their  secluded  chamber,  they  at  once  recognized  their 
Master.  And  in  order  to  dispel  the  idea  that  it  was  a  mere 
apparition.  He  invites  them  to  touch  and  handle  Him,  that 
they  might  know  that  it  was  the  actual  body  in  which  He  had 
suffered  upon  the  cross.  And  at  every  subsequent  time  that 
He  showed  himself  to  them,  they  had  abundant  opportunity 
of  attentively  regarding  the  person  of  the  Redeemer.  And 
that  none  might  dispute  His  resurrection.  He  appeared  at  one 
time  to  about  five  hundred  brethren,  and  last  of  all  to  Paul 
as  that  apostle  informs  us. 

If,  moreover,  we  examine  the  records  of  apostolical  labor, 


BRINGS    C05rS0LATI0N   TO    THE   BEREAVED.  285 

we  shall  discover  that  all  their  preaching  ultimately  rested 
upon  this  cardinal  truth.  In  that  masterly  discourse  which 
Paul  delivered  to  the  cultivated  Athenians  on  Mars-hill,  he 
enforces  the  truths  which  he  had  uttered  by  the  resurrection 
of  Jesus.  "  God  now  commandeth  all  men  every  where  to 
repent,  because  he  hath  appointed  a  day  in  the  which  he  will 
judge  the  world  in  righteousness,  by  that  man  whom  he  hath 
ordained  ;  whereof  he  hath  given  assurance  unto  all  men  in 
that  he  hath  raised  him  from  the  dead."  Peter,  in  the  very 
commencement  of  his  epistle,  breaks  forth  in  the  following 
beautiful  language.  "  Blessed  be  the  God  and  father  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  which  according  to  his  abundant  mercy 
hath  begotten  us  again  unto  a  lively  hope  by  the  resurrection 
of  Jesus  Christ  from  the  dead."  From  a  multitude  of 
passages  which  might  be  cited,  it  is  evident  that  the  entire 
and  magnificent  structure  of  the  gospel  is  based  upon  the 
resurrection  of  Christ.  The  apostle  Paul  in  his  admirable 
vindication  of  this  doctrine  in  1  Cor.  chap.  xv.  administers 
not  only  a  masterly  rebuke  to  the  errors  which  had  crept  into 
the  church,  but  distinctly  states  that  the  truth  of  Christianity 
has  no  other  foundation  upon  which  to  repose,  if  this  were 
taken  away.  "  If  Christ  be  not  raised,  your  faith  is  vain  ;  ye 
are  yet  in  your  sins.  Then,  also,  they  which  are  fallen  asleep 
in  Christ  are  perished."  It  is  manifest  not  only  from  this 
incomparable  and  triumphant  vindication  in  this  chapter,  but 
from  the  whole  gospel,  that  they  attached  the  highest  value  to 
this  doctrine.  It  constituted  a  prime  article  in  their  faith, 
and  was  full  of  consolation  to  them  in  all  their  trials ;  for  it 


286  THE    HOPE    OF    RESURRECTION 

peopled  the  future  with  a  gloiy,  the  grandeur  of  which 
relieved  their  suiferings  of  their  gloom  and  poignancy.  And 
its  importance  can  certainly  not  be  overrated  by  rational 
beings,  for  it  underlies  all  our  theology,  and  is  the  ground- 
work of  all  immortal  hopes.  It  connects  the  present  and  the 
future,  and  gives  significance  to  all  that  is  mysterious  and 
solemn  in  the  incarnation,  the  life  and  death  of  our  Saviour, 
It  breathes  life  into  all  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel,  and 
makes  the  sacred  page  radiant  with  the  hopes  of  eternal 
existence.  For  if  the  dead  rise  not,  how  can  we  vindicate 
the  scheme  of  redemption,  how  solve  the  problem  of  our  life, 
or  reconcile  the  imperfect  state  of  man  in  this  world  with  the 
other  works  of  God,  which  attain  to  their  appropriate  perfec- 
tion ?  And,  deprived  of  that  hope  which  causes  the  ashes  of 
our  sainted  to  glow  with  immortality,  and  which  opens  to 
the  contemplation  of  man  beyond  the  grave  scenes  of  ineffable 
grandeur  and  glory,  what  would  there  be  left  to  animate  the 
Christian  with  fortitude  under  trials,  or  to  comfort  hina  amid 
the  wreck  of  earthly  hopes  ?  Very  truly  does  the  apostle 
observe  — "  If  in  this  life  only,  we  have  hope  in  Christ,  then 
are  we  of  all  men  most  miserable."  For  if  Christianity  is  a 
fiction,  death  an  eternal  sleep,  and  immortality  a  dream,  then 
may  we  adopt  the  Epicurean  adage  as  a  principle  of  action  , 
— "  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die."  But  as  this 
is  absurd  and  the  doctrine  of  fools,  we  being  immortal  should 
live  as  immortals;  —  live  in  accordance  with  the  dictates  of 
the  laws,  the  elements  and  aspirations  of  our  being,  all  of 


BRINGS    CONSOLATION    TO    THE    BEIIEAVED.  287 

which  unite  their  testimony  with  reason   and  revelation   in 
proclaiming  that  we  shall  live  forever. 

It  is  a  precious  consolation  to  the  Christian  that  this  body, 
in  which  he  groans  and  suffers,  in  which  he  moves  and  acts, 
and  whose  members  are  consecrated  to  God  and  occupied  in 
His  service,  shall  become  immortal.  That  this  weak  and 
frail  tenement  of  the  soul,  so  disordered  and  anguished  by  the 
effects  of  sin,  shall  at  last  rise  from  its  humble  dwelling  in  the 
dust,  perfectly  holy,  and  eternally  triumph  with  the  spirit 
in  the  presence  of  Jehovah.  And  equally  precious  is  it  to 
believe  that  God  will  reanimate  the  dust  of  His  saints,  and 
that  they  shall  burst  forth  from  the  tomb  arrayed  in  the  glory 
of  Christ.  He,  as  the  first  fruits  of  the  resurrection,  has 
already  ascended  in  His  humanity  to  the  presence  of  the 
Father,  where  His  glorified  body  appears  as  the  pledge  for 
the  fulfilment  of  the  promise  in  all  His  followers,  and  as  a 
confirmation  of  the  truth  that  all  who  are  joined  by  a  living 
faith  to  Jesus  shall  be  raised  to  the  same  happiness  and  glory 
in  heaven.  In  view  of  this  fact,  Paul  exhorts  the  Thessalo- 
nians  in  the  following  language  :  "  But  I  would  not  have  you 
ignorant,  brethren,  concerning  them  which  are  asleep,  that 
ye  sorrow  not  even  as  others  who  have  no  hope.  For  if  we 
believe  that  Jesus  died  and  rose  again,  even  so  them  also 
which  sleep  in  Jesus  will  God  bring  with  Him.  For  this  we 
say  unto  you  by  the  word  of  the  Lord,  that  we  which  are 
alive  and  remain  unto  the  coming  of  the  Lord,  shall  not 
prevent  them  which  are  asleep.  For  the  Lord  himself  shall 
descend  from  heaven  with  a  shout,  with  the  voice  of  the  arch- 


288  ^HE    HOPE    OF    RESURRECTION 

angel,  and  with  the  trump  of  God  ;  and  the  dead  in  Christ 
shall  rise  first ;  then  we  which  are  alive  and  remain  shall  he 
caught  up  together  with  them  in  the  clouds,  to  meet  the  Lord 
in  the  air,  and  so  shall  we  ever  be  with  the  Lord.  Where- 
fore comfort  one  another  with  these  words."  With  such 
words,  breathing  exalted  hopes,  he  would  comfort  those  who 
were  sorrowing  for  their  departed.  It  is  not  the  will  of 
heaven  that  w^e  should  remain  unaffected  by  afflictions,  for 
this  would  defeat  their  end  ;  and  there  is  no  law  in  our 
nature  which  demands  stoical  indifference  in  our  bereave- 
ments, for  our  sorrows  are  only  outflows  of  a  smitten  soul ; 
but  religion  comes  to  our  aid,  to  soothe  and  moderate  our 
grief  by  its  solid  and  exhaustless  comforts,  and  by  the  glori- 
ous assurance  that  those  who  go  down  into  the  house 
appointed  for  all  the  living  shall  rise  again.  Blessed,  glori- 
ous announcement,  which  pours  such  light  into  the  tomb,  and 
such  precious  consolation  into  our  hearts  ! 

The  apostle  John  gives  us  in  the  Apocalypse  a  vivid 
picture  of  the  transactions  connected  with  the  coming  of 
Christ.  When  He  shall  come  upon  His  great  white  throne, 
and  the  heavens  and  the  earth  shrinking  from  His  presence. 
He  shall  call  back  to  life  the  sleeping  millions.  The 
voice  which  once  commanded  and  the  universe  arose,  and 
the  heavens  were  stretched  out,  and  all  the  glowing  orbs  took 
up  their  line  of  march,  will  again  be  heard  at  the  final  day  ; 
and  as  its  vibrations  travel  over  the  earth,  every  grave  will 
fly  open,  and  every  sepulchre  will  be  uncovered.  What  an 
animating  spectacle  will  the  morning  of  the  resurrection  pro- 


BRINGS   CONSOLATION   TO   THE   BEREAVED.  289 

duce.  With  the  breaking  of  its  light  there  will  be  a  stirring 
of  life  in  every  cavern  where  a  victim  of  death  reposed  ; 
while  shouts  of  triumph  and  lamentations  of  despair  are  fill- 
ing the  air,  and  mingling  with  the  furious  roar  of  burning 
elements,  the  crash  of  worlds,  and  the  groans  of  an  expiring, 
sin-burdened  creation,  until  all  are  dissolved  into  quiet  sub- 
mission at  the  feet  of  the  great  Redeemer,  to  hear  their 
eternal  doom.  And  not  only  the  earth,  but  the  "  sea  shall 
give  up  its  dead."  Millions  have  gone  down  into  its  un- 
fathomable depdis.  It  is  the  common  highway  of  the  nations 
of  the  earth.  It  is  the  bond  which  holds  in  union  and  friendly 
intercourse  the  large  family  of  nations  ;  while  it  is  also  the 
vast  sepulchre  where  all  kindreds  have  laid  a  portion  of  their 
dead.  It  is  the  great  tomb  of  nations.  Many  who  have  been 
borne  over  its  dark  blue  waves  in  search  of  pearls,  and  en- 
gaged in  commerce,  have  gone  down  into  its  hidden  caverns. 
Multitudes  who  fell  in  naval  conflicts,  and  the  victims  of 
marine  disasters,  are  committed  to  its  trust.  There  the  vessel 
that  was  freighted  with  hundreds  of  immortals  was  overtaken 
by  the  storm  and  shattered,  and  sunk  with  her  precious 
cargo.  There  the  pestilence  has  dropped  upon  the  deck  like 
a  viewless  and  dark  spirit,  and  smitten  those  wandering  to  a 
new  and  distant  home.  To  the  sea  has  the  emigrant  com- 
mitted his  beloved  one,  in  the  hope  of  the  resurrection.  The 
many  disasters  along  the  reefy  and  rock-bound  coasts,  as  well 
as  the  fire  and  tempest  on  the  open  sea,  are  annually  sending 
their  thousands  to  this  tomb.  0,  what  precious  treasure  does 
the  sea  hold  over  for  the  resurrection  morn  !  Much  of  silver, 
25 


290  THE   HOPE    OF   RESURRECTION 

of  gold,  and  costly  gems,  have  gone  down  into  its  bosom, 
and  this  wealth  may  lie  unclaimed  ;  but  all  in  whom  the 
breath  of  immortality  was  found  must  be  surrendered  on 
demand.  0,  thou  sepulchre  of  nations !  thou  capacious  and 
unfathomable  grave  of  the  world !  thou  shalt  give  up  thy 
dead ! 

"Wliat  wealth  untold, 

Far  dovrn  and  shining  through  thy  stillness  lies ! 
Thou  hast  the  starry  gems,  the  burning  gold, 

Won  from  ten  thousand  royal  argosies. 
Sweep  o'er  thy  spoils,  thou  wild  and  wrathful  main, 

Earth  claims  not  these  again  ! 

Give  back  the  lost  and  lovely !  those  for  whom 
The  place  was  kept  at  board  and  hearth  so  long ; 

The  prayer  went  up  through  midnight's  breathless  gloom, 
And  the  vain  yearnings  woke  'midst  festal  song ! 

Hold  fast  thy  buried  isles,  thy  towers  o'erthrown, 
But  all  is  not  thine  own  ! 

To  thee  the  love  of  woman  hath  gone  down ; 

Dark  flow  thy  tides  o'er  manhood's  noble  head, 
O'er  youth's  bright  locks  and  beautj^'s  flowery  crown! 

Yet  must  thou  hear  a  voice  —  Restore  the  Dead  ! 
God  shall  reclaim  His  precious  things  from  thee ! 

Restore  the  Dead,  thou  Sea." 

Contemplate  for  a  moment,  the  grandeur  of  that  scene! 
Let  us  shift  ourselves  forward  to  that  marvellous  and  glorious 
spectacle.  The  night  of  death  is  past,  the  long  silence  of  the 
tomb  is  broken,  and  the  lustre  of  the  morning  of  redemption 
bathes  the  world  with  its  glory !  And  although  we  cannot 
with  all  the  aids  which  imagination  and  imagery  furnish,  rise 
in  our  apprehensions  to  the  proper  dignity  and  glory  of  that 
day;    we  may  behold  faint  reflections,  and   catch   a  few 


BRINGS   CONSOLATION   TO   THE   BEREAVED.  291 

glimpses  from  the  manifestations  of  Divine  power,  as  ex 
hibited  in  the  material  world.  As  autumn  is  an  emblem  of 
death,  so  is  spring  an  image  of  the  resurrection.  And  it  is 
the  certainty  with  which  we  look  forward  to  the  renewal  of 
the  face  of  nature,  that  reconciles  us  to  the  autumnal  decay 
of  the  beautiful  things  of  earth.  Without  this  assurance,  it 
would  indeed  be  a  melancholy  spectacle  to  witness  our 
forests  disrobed,  our  flowers  fade,  all  the  decorations  of 
earth  perish,  and  see  all  things  passing  into  the  desolations 
of  winter.  And  thus  also,  would  death  be  a  dark  and  cheer- 
less destiny,  could  we  not  look  forward  through  its  gloom 
and  see  the  light  of  the  resurrection  morn  flashing  upon  our 
vision.  And  shall  not  this  hope  cheer  bereaved  hearts  ? 
Our  dead  shall  rise  again.  That  aged  parent  who  went 
down  to  the  narrow  house  bent  with  the  weight  of  infirmities 
and  years,  shall  renew  his  youth ;  that  sweet  sister  whose  last 
faint  echoes  still  linger  on  our  ear,  shall  again  speak  to  us  ; 
and  that  little  angel  form  which  we  so  often  encircled,  shall 
yet  again  fly  to  our  embraces,  for  they  shall  rise  again.  God 
has  so  declared  ;  and  from  the  annual  recurrence  of  that 
season  which  robes  in  fresh  glory  our  hills  and  valleys.  He 
furnishes  incontestable  proof  of  His  faithfulness  and  ability  in 
the  performance  of  his  promises.  "  Forever,  O  Lord,  thy 
word  is  settled  in  heaven.  Thy  faithfulness  is  unto  all 
generations."  And  if  a  feeble  faith  should  sometimes  be 
staggered  when  it  surveys  the  difficulties  which  unsanctified 
reason  has  thrown  around  this  doctrine  of  our  holy  religion, 
it  may  recruit  its  energies  and  reassure  the  heart  by  con- 


292  THE   HOPE   OF   RESURRECTION 

templating  those  wonders  which  Almighty  power  causes  to 
transpire  with  unfaltering  certainty  in  the  world  around  us. 
We  cannot  see,  neither  can  we  understand  the  operations  of 
that  mysterious  energy  which  is  at  play  in  the  production  of 
the  phenomena  of  nature,  and  yet  we  witness  and  acknow- 
ledge its  effects.  And  is  it  any  more  difficult  to  believe  that 
God  can,  and  that  God  will  raise  his  sleeping  saints  to  life 
and  glory?  "  Why  should  it  be  thought  a  thing  incredible 
with  you,  that  God  should  raise  the  dead?"  O!  it  is  not 
incredible  nor  impossible,  since  the  veracity  and  omnipotence 
of  God  are  pledged  for  its  fulfilment.  He  will  rebuild  those 
fallen  structures.  Believe  it,  believe  it,  and  be  comforted, 
ye  that  mourn  around  the  graves  of  the  lovely  and  the 
beautiful.  Though  their  frames  are  wasting  away,  and  their 
comeliness  is  lost  in  the  mould  of  the  tomb,  they  shall  rise 
with  a  far  more  excellent  glory  than  ever  adorned  them 
while  bearing  their  earthly  burdens.  They  will  rise  with 
immortal  natures.  Their  bodies  will  never  more  be  liable  to 
disease,  to  blight,  and  decay ;  for  they  shall  be  fashioned 
like  unto  His  own  glorious  body.  And  when  risen  incor- 
ruptible, the  soul,  once  driven  from  that  house,  will 
return  to  inhabit  it  forever.  And  what  a  change,  in  compari- 
son with  its  former  home!  Then  weak  and  corrupt,  now 
perfected  in  its  entire  organization,  the  soul  finds  it  fitted  for 
the  discharge  of  its  high  functions.  Why  should  we,  then, 
sorrow  foi  our  departed  as  those  who  have  no  hope  ?  Nay, 
let  us  rather  rejoice  that,  while  we  ourselves  are  hastening  to 
the  grave,  and  all  earthly  happiness  and  hopes  are  on  the 


BRINGS    CONSOLATION    TO    THE    BEREAVED.  293 

wing  and  doomed  to  be  wrecked,  we  may  plant  our  hope 
upon  the  threshold  of  that  day  when  every  sleeper  shall 
awake,  and  we,  and  those  whom,  in  our  deep  affliction,  we 
laid  in  the  silent  grave,  shall  rise  to  an  immortality  full  of 
glory.  0 !  it  strips  death  of  its  terrors,  and  the  grave  of 
its  gloom,  when  I  am  assured  of  God  that  my  humanity  shall 
share  in  the  blessings  of  a  glorious  immortality.  To  know 
that  this  body,  so  often  rent  by  anguish  and  racked  with  pain, 
shall  share  in  the  joys  of  an  endless  future,  reconciles  me  to 
the  afflictions  of  life,  and  makes  me  long  for  all  those  quali- 
fications which  will  give  me  a  part  in  the  resurrection  of  the 
just.  For  what  need  I  fear  from  adversity,  from  fire,  or 
sword,  or  death,  when  I  know  that  these  hands  shall  sweep 
an  everlasting  harp,  these  eyes  behold  the  eternal  throne  and 
the  wonders  of  Jehovah,  and  these  feet,  so  wearily  threading 
the  path  of  life,  shall  stand  in  the  midst  of  thee,  0,  Jerusa- 
lem !  thou  city  of  my  God,  my  everlasting  home ! 

25* 


CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  THE  FAMILY  BOND  A 
SOURCE  OF  CONSOLATION  TO  THE  BEREAVED. 


'  Not  in  the  grave,  not  in  the  grave,  my  soul 
Believe  thy  friend  belov'd ; 
But  in  the  lonely  hour, 
And  in  the  evening  walk, 
Think  that  he  companies  thy  solitude !" 


There  is  a  withering  power  in  the  stroke  of  death.  It 
not  only  shatters  "the  harp  of  a  thousand  strings,"  and 
hushes  its  melody  forever  on  earth,  but  the  blow  which  stills 
the  heart  of  a  friend  falls  with  stunning  effect  upon  all  who 
stood  in  intimate  relation  with  him.  A  thousand  persons 
feel  at  the  same  instant  the  electric  shock,  if  they  form  an 
unbroken  chain  of  contact  with  the  battery ;  and  thus  when 
one  is  stricken  by  death,  all  who  are  united  with  him  by  ties 
of  friendship  and  affection  instantly  feel  it.  But  while  pain 
and  grief  accompany  the  removal  of  friends,  and  all  looks 
desolate  within  and  without,  there  is  this  consolation  left  us, 
that  they  are  not  lost,  but  gone,  like  orbs  which  are  carried 
in  their  circle  beyond  the  range  of  our  vision,  but  which  still 
exist  and  shine,  though  their  light  falls  not  around  us.  And 
surely  the  conviction  that  their  being  is  not  extinguished  — 

(294) 


THE   INDESTRUCTIBILITY   OF  THE   FAMILY   BOND.      295 

not  blotted  from  God's  intelligent  universe,  but  that  they 
have  taken  their  places  among  tlie  exalted  and  holy,  affords 
us  consolation  in  our  sorrow,  and  joy  in  our  grief.  And  it  is 
still  more  consolatory  to  know  that  they  are  yet  ours ;  that 
they  are  united  to  us  by  a  bond  which  even  death  cannot 
impair.  And  to  my  heart  there  is  nothing  more  cheering  and 
sustaining  under  the  pressures  of  bereavement  than  the  con- 
viction that  the  changes  which  befall  the  relations  of  life  only 
extend  to  the  material,  and  leave  the  spiritual  without  weak- 
ness or  blight.  It  is  a  sad  reflection,  which  forces  itself  upon 
the  mind  when  contemplating  the  family  circle,  that  it  is 
destined  to  be  broken  up  sooner  or  later.  And  it  is,  perhaps, 
on  this  account,  that  we  seldom  suffer  our  thoughts  to  dwell 
upon  such  an  event,  until  it  is  no  longer  possible  to  avoid  it. 
And  on  the  part  of  many  there  seem  to  be  studied  efforts  to 
keep  themselves  from  anticipating  that  which  is  borne  with 
such  difficulty  when  it  comes  to  pass.  We  instinctively  turn 
from  that  day,  which  is  winging  its  approach  momentarily 
nearer,  when  one  of  us  who  compose  that  circle  of  warm 
hearts  must  leave  those  beloved  scenes  and  friends,  and  go 
alone  into  eternity.  We  would  rather,  while  looking  upon 
our  children,  and  they  upon  us,  wish  that  the  mildew  of 
affliction  and  the  gloom  of  desolation  might  never  fall  upon 
our  abode  of  happiness.  And  it  may  seem  to  some  an  un- 
kind and  unwarrantable  intrusion  to  disturb  the  placid  feel- 
ings of  those  who  have  never  yet  been  willing  to  entertain 
the  idea  that  the  hour  of  separation  from  those  whom  they 
love  is  coming.     And  if  we  were  under  the  dark  power  of 


296  THE   INDESTRUCTIBILITY   OP 

cheerless  heathenism,  it  might  be  prudent  not  to  think  at  all 
on  the  subject;  but  since  life  and  immortality  have  been 
brought  to  light  in  the  Gospel,  and  we  are  privileged  to 
take  a  full  view  of  the  immense  range  of  our  destiny,  it  is 
both  the  dictate  of  reason  and  religion  to  consider  every 
aspect  which  it  may  assume,  and  to  ponder  every  particular 
which  belongs  to  our  history. 

Although  we  may  dread  the  hour  of  separation,  it  will 
lighten  the  calamity  if  we  are  prepared  for  it.  Instead,  then, 
of  avoiding  all  reference  in  our  thoughts  and  conversations 
to  the  severance  of  those  bonds  which  unite  us  to  each  other, 
it  should  be  the  frequent  subject  of  meditation  and  prayer. 
Regarding  ourselves  and  those  whom  God  has  given  us  as 
immortal,  and  living  with  reference  to  our  future  existence, 
we  may  look  upon  all  those  changes  to  which  we  and  our 
families  are  subjected  in  our  progress  to  our  final  home, 
without  dread.  For  what  is  a  brief  separation  compared  with 
an  eternal  union  ?  And  it  is  after  all,  only  an  apparent,  and 
not  a  real  rupture  of  the  family  relation.  It  is  a  part  of  our 
destiny,  and,  if  it  be  accompanied  with  pain,  we  find  a 
compensation  for  the  evil  in  the  hope  of  that  endless  and 
glorious  future,  where  we  shall  be  reunited  without  the 
possibility  of  another  separation.  And  while  we  are  ad- 
vancing towards  the  possession  of  that  fadeless  glory  which 
Ihey  have  already  inherited,  we  are  conscious  of  the  lively 
exercises  of  love  with  which  we  cherished  them  while  they 
were  living.  Nothing  can  quench  the  fires  of  affection  which 
their  presence  once  kindled  in  -our  hearts,  and  we  have  no 


THE   FAMILY   BOND.  297 

reason  to  believe  that  their  glorified  spirits  cease  to  cherish  us 
amid  the  wonders  and  joys  of  their  blissful  home.  We  can 
form  some  idea  of  the  sympathy  which  exists  between  friends, 
part  of  whom  are  in  heaven  and  part  on  earth,  from  the  known 
operations  of  our  minds  when  as  members  of  the  same  family 
our  lots  are  cast  in  different  localities.  Members  of  the  same 
household,  as  they  attain  maturity  of  years,  choose  different 
occupations,  and  their  pursuits  may  be  such  as  to  make  it 
necessary  for  them  to  live  in  different  states,  or  countries,  so 
that  the  parents  of  a  numerous  family  may  find  themselves 
the  second  time  the  sole  occupants  of  their  dwelling.  The 
sons  and  daughters  are  all  gone,  but  the  ties  which  unite  them 
are  not  broken.  If  they  lived  affectionately  and  happily 
through  their  childhood,  then  their  dispersion  and  the  distance 
at  which  they  reside  from  each  other,  do  not  enfeeble,  but 
rather  strengthen  the  attachment  which  exists  between  them. 
The  same  bond  which  knit  together  in  holy  love  their  youth- 
ful hearts,  still  holds  their  spirits  in  sweet  communion,  though 
many  thousand  miles  may  intervene.  This  bond  of  union 
reaches  across  deserts,  seas,  and  continents,  gathering  within 
its  embrace  all  the  members  of  the  same  fold.  It  is  a  part  of 
our  spiritual  being,  and  claims  an  immortality  with  the  soul. 
There  is  no  affection  which  relates  to  earthly  objects  that  is 
of  equal  strength  and  permanence.  The  youth  who  has 
gone  to  a  distant  land  in  pursuit  of  gain,  carries  with  him  the 
hearts  of  those  whom  he  left  behind.  Is  there  a  day  that  he 
is  out  of  the  thoughts  of  his  parents  ?  Is  he  not  rather  the 
constant   subject  of  their  conversatic^,  their  prayers,  their 


298  THE   INDESTRUCTIBILITY   OF 

anxieties  and  their  hopes  ?  0  !  there  is  a  viewless  chord  that 
extends  from  heart  to  heart,  and,  Hke  the  electric  wire 
which  unites  two  opposite  poles,  instantly  communicates  to 
the  one  that  which  transpires  in  the  other.  Has  the  mother 
given  up  her  daughter  to  the  missionary  work  in  a  far-oflf 
land,  and  is  her  child  toiling  for  the  advancement  of  the 
gospel  amid  the  "habitations  of  cruelty?"  Although  she 
has  cheerfully  surrendered  her  to  this  glorious  service,  she 
has  not  ceased  to  love  her.  Her  thoughts  are  continually 
with  the  absent  one,  and  the  outflows  of  her  soul  towards  that 
beloved  child  become  more  and  more  abundant  as  the  days 
and  years  of  separation  increase.  Undying  love  brings  her 
name  frequently  to  her  lips,  and  her  image  before  her  mind. 
And  with  equal  tenderness  do  the  absent  ones  cherish  the 
loved  ones  at  home.  If  they  are  thrown  out  upon  the 
circumference  of  earth,  their  hearts  turn  as  instinctively  to  the 
home  of  their  childhood,  as  the  needle  does  to  the  pole. 

It  is  not  at  their  respective  localities  that  they  commune 
with  each  other,  but  around  the  place  of  their  birth ;  and 
whenever  they  revisit  in  imagination  the  familiar  scenes  of 
other  days,  those  places  are  always  peopled  with  those 
who  once  rejoiced  with  them  in  their  earlier  and  happier 
years. 

This  kindred  feeling  is  not  of  sickly  growth  ;  its  roots 
extend  into  the  holiest  depths  of  human  nature,  and  are 
nourished  by  the  purest  emanations  of  the  spirit.  One  of  the 
great  laws  in  the  material  world,  is  that  of  affinity  between 
things  of  a  common  origin  and  of  common  properties.     This 


THE    FAMILY    BOND.  299 

IS  illustrated  and  proved  through  all  the  kingdoms  of  nature. 
But  this  law  controls  with  like  authority  and  even  with 
OTeater  force  in  the  world  of  mind,  than  it  does  in  the  world 
of  matter.  And  thus  we  see  that  where  there  is  a  similarity 
of  taste  and  disposition,  and  an  identity  of  pursuit,  there  is  a 
commingling  of  hearts.  Great  purposes  are  subserved,  and 
benevolent  ends  are  accomplished  by  this  arrangement  of 
Providence.  A  strong  current  of  sympathy  pulsates  through 
our  humanity,  so  that  all  those  generous  emotions  and 
benevolent  impulses  of  which  we  are  capable,  leap  into  em- 
bodied forms  of  relief,  when  calamities  of  one  kind  or  another 
fall  upon  our  brethren  of  mankind.  It  is  asserted  by  philoso- 
phers, that  the  fall  of  a  pebble  sends  its  vibrations  through 
the  entire  framework  of  the  earth.  And  Melville,  in  discours- 
ing of  the  murderer  Cain,  carries  this  thought  to  a  still  higher 
elevation,  and  gives  it  a  more  sublime  range,  when  he 
represents  him  as  pursued  and  haunted  by  the  outcries  of  all 
nature  against  him  for  his  atrocious  crime.  "  It  may  be,  that 
fashioned  as  man  is  out  of  the  dust  of  the  earth,  there  are 
such  links  between  him  and  the  material  creation,  that  when 
the  citadel  of  his  life  is  rudely  invaded,  the  murderous  blow 
is  felt  throughout  the  vast  realm  of  nature  ;  so  that,  though 
there  be  no  truth  in  the  wild  legend.,  that  if  the  assassin  enter 
the  chamber  where  the  victim  is  stretched,  the  gasping 
wounds  will  bleed  afresh,  yet  may  earth,  sea,  and  air  have 
sympathy  with  the  dead,  and  form  themselves  into  furies  to 
hunt  down  his  destroyer.  It  may  have  been  more  than  a 
rhetorical   expression   when  God   assigned  a  voice   to   the 


300  THE    INDESTRUCTIBILITY   OF 

ground  that  was  saturated  with  human  blood.  And  these 
may  be  utterances  which  are  more  than  the  coinings  of  his  own 
racked  conscience  to  the  murderer — utterances  which  though 
heard  only  by  himself,  because  himself  alone  hath  dislocated 
a  chord  in  the  great  harmonies  of  creation,  may  speak  pierc- 
ingly of  the  frightful  atrocity,  and  invoke  the  vengeance  of 
Heaven  on  the  wretch  who  hath  dared  to  withdraw  one  note 
from  the  universal  anthem."  Whether  men  would  or  would 
not  subscribe  to  the  sentiment  in  this  eloquent  passage  from 
this  gifted  divine,  none  can  have  any  reluctance  about  yield- 
ing their  acknowledgment  to  the  fact  that  there  is  a  myste- 
rious sympathetic  connection  between  all  who  are  partakers 
of  human  nature.  Humanity  is  a  unit.  And  since  all  the 
children  of  men  have  a  common  origin,  and  are  alike  in  all 
the  essential  properties  of  their  being,  therefore,  if  the  laws 
of  affinity  and  sympathy  act  any  where  with  acknowledged 
force,  it  is  in  the  human  family.  And  we  have  an  exemplifi- 
cation of  the  truthfulness  of  this,  in  those  reciprocal  influences 
which  circulate  upon  the  surface  and  through  all  the  great 
channels  of  that  entire  body  of  social  beings  which  covers  the 
earth.  When  the  tidings  of  distressing  suflTerings  or  disas- 
trous calamities  which  have  befallen  our  brethren  of  the  flesh 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  globe  reach  us,  the  secret  fountains 
of  our  nature  are  stirred  to  their  holiest  depths,  and  we  share 
their  misfortunes  and  sorrows.  A  fellow  feeling  makes  us 
conscious  that  they  are  a  part  of  us,  and  that  our  sympathy 
for  them  is  eminently  natural  and  rational.  When  the 
pestilence  is  desolatihg  the  cities  of  Persia,  or  China,  or  the 


THE  FAMILY  BOND.  301 

plague  is  wasting  the  inhabitants  of  India,  it  is  with  painful 
feelings  that  we  peruse  the  records  of  such  devastations.  It 
is  with  instinctive  horror  that- we  follow  the  invisible  scouro-e 

o 

from  city  to  city  and  from  kingdom  to  kingdom,  while  at  the 
same  time  we  participate  in  all  those  emotions  of  dread  which 
cause  men  to  shrink  from  the  presence  of  the  terrible  destroyer. 
We  sympathise  with  suffering,  in  whatever  form  and  in  what- 
ever locality  it  may  be  endured  by  man.  A  cry  of  distress 
once  uttered,  completes  the  circuit  of  the  globe.  Those 
yearnings  for  life  and  liberty  which  issue  from  hearts  bleeding 
and  quivering  under  the  iron  heel  of  the  oppressor,  mourn- 
fully echo  through  all  the  channels  of  our  being,  and  pour 
their  vibrations  along  every  chord  of  our  souls.  A  crushing 
burden,  wherever  it  presses  upon  human  hearts,  is  like  a 
mountain  cast  into  the  sea,  which  will  raise  waves  whose  un- 
dulations will  be  felt  upon  the  farthest  shore. 

It  is  this  same  law  of  our  being,  schooled  and  elevated  by 
our  holy  religion,  which  calls  forth  from  the  comforts  of  home 
and  the  endearments  of  friendship,  the  man,  and  the  female 
delicately  reared,  and  constrains  them  to  present  themselves 
to  the  church,  and  say,  lo  !  here  are  we,  send  us  to  publish  the 
tidings  of  salvation  to  our  benighted  heathen  brethren.  And  it 
is  in  the  hope  of  benefiting  the  ignorant  and  degraded  pagans, 
that  difficulties  are  cheerfully  encountered,  and  if  these  cannot 
be  surmounted,  they  are  meekly  endured,  yea,  even  life  itself  is 
surrendered  by  tliose  who  labor  for  the  elevation  of  the  race 
and  the  glory  of  God.  Behold  the  servants  of  Christ  scattered 
over  all  the  earth,  in  the  burning  south  and  the  frozen  north, 
26 


302  THE   INDESTRUCTIBILITY   OF 

exposed  to  perils  of  every  imaginable  form,  toiling  on  in  their 
arduous  work  of  establishinc^  schools,  of  instructinsf  the  isfno- 
rant,  and  of  organizing  churches,  and  thus  opening  fountains 
all  over  this  desert  world,  that  "  the  streams  which  make  glad 
the  city  of  God,"  may  flow  out  upon  the  wide  fields  of  our 
weary  humanity,  and  water  and  mature  harvests  for  eternal 
glory ;  and  search  for  the  motives  which  carried  them  out 
into  those  distant  fields,  and  which  sustain  them  in  their  self- 
denying  exertions,  and  these  will  abundantly  witness  that  it 
is  the  love  of  Christ  and  of  souls  which  prompted  them  to  the 
undertaking,  and  which  supports  them  in  their  humane  and 
Christian  labors.  This  bond  of  union  or  fellow-feeling  which 
unites  the  whole  race,  acts  with  such  force  as  to  create  a 
deep  concern  in  those  nations  who  have  been  exalted  above 
others  through  the  influences  of  Christianity,  for  their  more 
wretched  brethren,  so  that  they  labor  for  the  elevation  and 
regeneration  of  the  kindreds  and  tongues  who  are  still  sitting 
"  in  the  region  and  shadow  of  death." 

But  this  bond  acquires  strength,  and  acts  more  energetically 
in  proportion  as  the  circle  of  its  operation  is  diminished. 
This  is  strictly  philosophical,  because  in  harmony  with  the 
laws  of  our  being.  It  is  the  same  power  acting  within  a 
narrower  compass ;  and  hence  we  have  sentiments  and  feel- 
ings of  nationality.  We  cherish  a  deeper  interest  for  the 
citizens  of  this  Republic  than  we  do  for  those  of  other 
nations.  And  when  travelling  in  a  distant  land  we  are 
thrown  into  the  company  of  an  American,  our  hearts  warm 
towards  him  more  than  towards  those  of  any  other  nation. 


THE   FAMILY   BOND.  303 

And  under  such  circumstances  we  are  still  more  strongly- 
attracted  to  him  when  we  make  the  discovery  that  he  is  from 
the  same  State,  and  yet  more  when  he  is  from  the  same  city 
or  neisrhborhood.  Such  a  knowledge  at  once  establishes 
confidence  between  us,  and  we  feel  and  converse  as  though 
we  had  always  known  each  other.  And  yet  the  family  bond 
rises  superior  to  this  in  strength,  in  tenderness,  and  in  dura- 
bility. It  is  the  force  and  depth  of  a  law  wide  and  deep  as 
humanity,  operating  within  that  circle  of  hearts  which  are  the 
offspring  of  the  same  beloved  parents.  My  brothers  and 
sisters,  father  and  mother,  wife  and  children,  are  "bone  of 
ray  bone,  and  flesh  of  ray  flesh."  I  cannot  think  or  speak 
of  them  without  feeUng  that  we  are  "  one  and  inseparable." 
That  those  ties  which  link  our  hearts,  and  those  chords  which 
bind  our  souls  in  union,  are  never  to  be  broken.  Why,  if  not 
in  obedience  to  this  law,  does  the  child,  whose  father  is  an 
inebriate,  or  the  victim  of  some  other  debasing  vice,  still  love 
him  who  is  shunned  by  society  ?  Why  does  the  raother  love 
that  son  who  has  broken  through  every  restraint,  and  out- 
raged all  the  sensibilities  of  her  heart,  and  cherish  him  after 
he  has  become  a  by- word  and  hissing  in  the  world .-'  0  !  it 
is  because  it  is  her  child.  The  inspired  writers,  and  our 
Lord  Jesus,  have  chosen  the  family  bond,  when  they  would 
illustrate  the  depth  and  strength  of  that  love  which  our 
Heavenly  Father  bears  to  all  his  creatures.  When  God 
wished  to  assure  desponding  Israel  of  His  tender  care  and 
protection.  He  put  this  language  into  the  raouth  of  the 
prophet,  "But  Zion  said.  The  Lord  hath  forsaken  rae,  and 


304  THE   INDESTRUCTIBILITY   OF 

my  Lord  hath  forgotten  me.  Can  a  woman  forget  her  suck- 
ling child,  that  she  should  not  have  compassion  on  the  son  of 
her  womb  ?  yea,  they  may  forget,  yet  will  I  not  forget  thee. 
Behold,  I  have  graven  thee  on  the  palms  of  my  hands  ;  thy 
walls  are  continually  before  me."  There  could  not  be  a 
more  forcible  image  of  His  tenderness  and  His  undying  com- 
passion for  His  people,  than  the  one  which  is  drawn  from  the 
ardent  feelings  which  a  faithful  mother  cherishes  for  her  child. 
And  thus,  also,  has  our  Saviour  represented  the  love  of  God 
in  the  father  of  the  prodigal.  Although  that  wayward  and 
profligate  youth  had  dishonored  the  family,  and  forfeited 
every  claim  to  parental  regard,  yet  did  he  retain  a  place  in 
tke  father's  heart ;  and  when  at  last  he  did  return  a  wreck  of 
what  he  had  been,  and  covered  with  every  rr.ark  of  a  deep 
degradation,  the  yearnings  and  impulses  of  a  parent's  heart 
caused  him  to  forget  the  feebleness  of  age  and  the  guilt  of 
his  son,  and  he  ran  to  meet  him,  and  fell  upon  his  neck  and 
kissed  him,  and  welcomed  him  w'lih  a  baptism  of  tears. 
And  there  are,  doubtless,  many  parents  whose  children  have 
broken  loose  from  the  restraints  of  their  authority,  and  have 
gone  out  into  the  w'orld  and  grown  w^orthless,  who  would 
bestow  a  similar  welcome  upon  those  erring  ones  if  they 
would  but  return  to  the  bosom  of  those  deserted  homes. 
This  bond  of  union  stands  second  only  to  that  which  unites 
the  soul  to  God  by  a  living  faith ;  only  that  is  higher  and 
holier,  and  will  triumph  over  natural  affection. 

As  an  interesting  and  instructive  illustration  of  the  com- 
parative strength  of  natural  and  spiritual  affection,  I  will  sub- 


THE   FAMILY   BOND. 


305 


mit  a  brief  statement  of  the  trial  of  a  young  friend.     Some 
time  ago  a  young  man  of  fine  abilities  and  a  good  education, 
and  a  member  of  one  of  the  Jesuit  orders  in  one  of  our  large 
cities,  was  awakened  by  the  spirit  of  God,  and  made  to  see 
the  errors  which  abounded  in  the  Roman  Catholic  Church ; 
and,   after  mature  reflection,  he  terminated  his  connection 
with  it.     A  few  months  after  this  occurred,  he  made  applica- 
tion for  membership  to  the  church  of  which  I  was  pastor ; 
and  after  a  careful  examination  of  the  motives  which  influ- 
enced  him    to    renounce    Romanism,    the    reasons   for   the 
hope  that  he  cherished,  and  a  suitable  term  of  probation, 
he  was  duly  admitted.     Some  time  after  his  admission  into 
charch  fellowship,  he  wrote  home,  informing  his  brother,  who 
is  a  priest,  of  the  change  in  his  ecclesiastical  relations,  and 
the  iTiotives  which  induced  the  change.     In  answer  to  these 
tidings,  he  received  a  letter  from  his  former  bishop,  and  also 
one  from  his  aged  mother,  written  by  his  sister.     The  bishop 
strongly  appealed  to  his  natural  affections,  and  said  "  he  had 
seen  too  deeply  into  his  heart  not  to  feel  assured  that  his 
beloved  son  would  retrieve  this  fatal  step,  and  expressed  the 
hope  of  his  speedy  return  to  the  bosom  of  the  Holy  Mother." 
But  his  mother  seemed  to  be  deeply  affected,  and  her  very 
soul  was   stirred  by  the  news    of  her  son's    conversion   to 
Protestantism.     She  threw  all  the  tenderness  and  yearnings 
of  her  maternal  nature  into  her  letter,  in  which  she  besought 
him  to  retrace  his  steps.     "  Were  I  not  enfeebled  by  age," 
said  she,  "  I  would  cross  seas  and  continents  to  gain  your 
presence,  and,  like  the  mother  of  Augustine,  I  would  throw 
26* 


306.  THE   INDESTRUCTIBILITY   OF 

myself  at  your  feet,  and  would  not  stir  until  you  would 
return  to  the  faith.  0,  my  son,  my  son!  my  fallen  son!" 
After  telling  him  that  prayers  were  ofTered  in  all  the  churches 
of  the  parish  for  his  recovery  to  the  Church,  his  sister  informs 
him  that  his  portrait,  which  hung  in  the  parlor,  and  which 
was  fondly  looked  upon  from  day  to  day,  had  been  removed 
out  of  sight,  and  a  picture  of  the  Virgin  Mary  put  in  its 
place.  It  was  a  sore  trial,  for  he  fondly  loved  that  aged 
mother,  that  brother  and  sister,  and  it  was  literally  giving 
them  up;  but,  blessed  be  God,  he  loved  his  Saviour  more 
than  these,  and  he  stood  unshaken  amid  those  mighty  appeals 
which  fell  upon  his  heart  with  unusual  power.  This  shows 
the  superiority  of  spiritual  over  natural  affection.  But, 
although  he  was  willing  for  Christ's  sake  to  have  himself  cut 
off  and  cast  out  of  the  hearts  of  his  kindred,  and  they  were 
ready,  in  obedience  to  the  dictates  of  a  superstitious  system, 
to  put  out  of  sight  the  very  image  of  the  absent  one  that 
glowed  so  harmlessly  on  the  canvass,  all  this  could  not 
destroy  that  family  bond  which  made  them  one.  For  while 
ostensibly  there  is  a  gulf  between  them  so  wide  and  deep 
that  neither  could  venture  to  cross  it,  that  bond  of  union 
which  made  them  members  of  the  same  family  reaches  across 
that  gulf;  and  do  what  they  may,  they  cannot  annihilate  that 
affection  which  they  bear  to  each  other. 

And  this  is  surely  not  an  isolated  case ;  for  there  are 
innumerable  instances  where  such  barriers  interpose,  that  all 
personal  intercourse  is  broken  off  between  those  of  the  same 
household ;  but  though  they  should  even  desire  to  extinguish 


THE   FAMILY  BOND.  307 

their  love  for  those  who  are  joined  to  them  by  ties  of  con- 
sanguinity, they  shall  not  be  able  to  do  it.  It  is  a  law  of 
their  nature,  and  they  must  yield  submission  to  its  dictates. 
There  is  a  father  whose  wishes  have  been  thwarted  concerning 
a  beloved,  perhaps  idolized,  child,  whose  disobedience  to 
parental  authority  has  banished  her  from  his  home  and 
presence ;  but  although  there  may  be  a  coolness  and  deter- 
minateness  of  aspect  on  his  brow,  and  an  inflexible  sternness 
may  mantle  his  features,  which  would  exclude  the  disobedient 
one  from  his  house,  yet,  notwithstanding  that  forbidding  ex- 
terior, that  daughter  has  a  home  in  his  heart ;  and  in  secret 
he  deplores  her  in  all  the  bitterness  of  his  soul.  A  kind* 
Providence  has,  therefore,  made  a  glorious  provision,  and 
placed, it  in  our  spiritual  constitution  with  which  to  arm  us 
acjainst  those  calamities  and  changes  which  are  incident  to 
our  earthly  pilgrimage.  We  are  united  to  those  we  love  by 
eternal  bonds.  They  may  pass  away  from  the  earth,  and  we 
may  commit  their  bodies  to  the  tomb  ;  but  this  bond  reaches 
beyond  the  sepulchre,  and  holds  them  in  sweet  embrace. 
Such  a  view  is  certainly  not  opposed  to  the  teachings  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  is  in  strict  conformity  with  the  laws  of  our 
being,  and  the  testimony  of  our  inward  consciousness.  We 
are  just  as  cognizant  of  the  fact  that  we  love  our  sainted 
friends,  as  we  are  that  we  affectionately  cherish  our  fellow- 
pilgrims  on  earth.  There  is  not  a  day  that  we  do  not  hold 
communion  with  them,  and  they  with  us.  For  it  is  our 
privilege  to  believe  that  our  departed  are  interested  in  our 
welfare,  and  perhaps  permitted  to  attend  us,  and  to  minister 


808  THE    INDESTRUCTIBLITY    OF 

to  US  in  our  upward  progress  to  eternal  life.  While  they  are 
elevated  in  their  views  and  feelings  above  the  possibility  of 
experiencing  pain  (supposing  them  to  be  cognizant  of  our 
infirmities  and  imperfections),  they  may  be  round  and  about 
us,  and  render  important  service  in  the  work  of  our  salva- 
tion. But  whatever  the  offices  may  be  with  which  they  are 
charged,  we  rejoice  in  the  assurances  of  our  hearts  that  the 
flow  of  affection  between  us  and  them  continues  in  a  current 
that  is  ever  deepening  and  widening  as  we  are  progressing 
towards  our  eternal  home.  The  indestructibility  of  this 
bond  of  family  union  is  a  gracious  and  exhaustless  source 
of  consolation  to  the  children  of  God,  and  a  conviction  to 
which  the  soul  clings  with  all  its  immortal  energies.  This 
thought  is  beautifully  expanded  in  some  stanzas  by  Words- 
worth, in  a  dialogue  with  a  little  girl  whom  he  interrogates  as 
to  the  number  of  their  family 

"  Sisters  and  brothers,  little  Maid, 

How  many  may  you  be  ?" 
"  How  many  ?  seven  in  all,"  she  said, 

And  wondering  looked  at  me. 
"  And  where  are  they,  I  pray  you  tell  ?" 
She  answered,  "  Seven  are  we, 
And  two  of  us  at  Conway  dwell, 

And  two  are  gone  to  sea. 
Two  of  us  in  the  churchyard  lie  — 

My  sister  and  my  brother ; 
And  in  the  churchyard  cottage,  I 
Dwell  near  them  with  my  mother." 
"  But  they  are  dead;  those  two  are  dead! 
Their  spirits  are  in  heaven  !" 
'Twas  throwing  words  away :  for  still 
The  little  Maid  would  have  her  will, 
And  said,  "Nay,  wo  arc  seven." 


THE   FAMILY   BOND.  309 

No  poet,  ay,  no  philosopher  could  have  changed  her  mind, 
for  none  could  reason  out  of  existence  this  family  bond. 
They  were  seven ;  two  were  at  sea,  two  at  Conway,  two 
were  slumbering  in  the  grave,  and  she  was  living  with  her 
mother  —  like  the  billows  of  the  deep,  which  are  distinct 
and  many,  yet  form  but  one  ocean. 

It  is  a  blessed  thought  that  we  shall  still  love  in  heaven, 
and  experience  joy  in  the  society  of  dear  departed  ones. 
How  cheering  the  knowledge,  while  toiling  through  the  world 
as  strangers  and  pilgrims,  that  the  bond  of  affection  which 
unites  us  to  hearts  throbbing  with  the  same  high  impulses, 
and  animated  with  the  same  immortal  hopes  which  thrill 
within  us,  is  to  last  forever!  And  if  we  have  beloved  parents, 
brothers,  sisters,  companions,  or  children  amid  the  glorious 
realities  of  that  immortal  state  where  one  instant  is  worth  all 
the  concentrated  delights  of  earth,  we  are  linked  by  the 
strongest  and  tenderest  ties  to  those  amazing  blessings  which 
are  at  the  right  hand  of  God.  Christianity  throws  a  grandeur 
around  the  prospects  of  the  believer,  so  dazzling  that  an 
angel  might  sink  in  silent  wonder  and  admiration  before  it. 
And  what  motives  do  these  considerations  furnish  to  rear  our 
children  for  heaven  !  If  we  attune  infant  lips  to  praise,  those 
notes  of  thanksgiving  will  vibrate  forever.  If  the  mouldino- 
hand  of  the  Redeemer  is  drawn  upon  them,  and  the  Holy 
Spirit  teaches  their  hearts  to  make  melody  to  the  Lord,  those 
melodies  will  be  heard  when  the  music  of  the  spheres  shall 
be  silent.     And  0 !   what  rapture  will  spread  through  the 


310  THE   INDESTKUCTIBILITY    OF 

entire  circle,  when  all  the  members  of  our  family  shall  have 
reached  those  blissful  shores !  Who  can  imagine  what  we 
shall  feel,  when  it  can  be  said  we  are  all  in  heaven!  When 
the  last  wanderer  has  come  in  with  songs  of  deliverance,  and 
the  shout  rings  through  the  armies  of  the  redeemed  —  all 
home,  home  from  the  distant  land  —  forever  home !  Let  us 
rejoice  in  this  union  of  hearts.  Let  us  bless  God  for  making 
the  family  bond  durable  as  the  soul.  0  !  my  sainted  mother ! 
my  beloved  sister  !  my  beautiful  angel  boy,  I  will  not  deplore 
you  as  lost;  for  ye  are  still  ours,  we  are  yet  one,  and  shall 
forever  be,  for  that  bond  which  unites  us  shall  exist  in  all  its 
vigor  when  the  wheels  of  the  universe  stand  still !  When 
every  mountain  shall  have  fallen,  it  shall  stand  unimpaired  ; 
when  every  law  whose  authority  is  acknowledged  by  material 
nature  shall  have  been  annulled,  this  law  which  makes  us 
one,  shall  be  in  force.  When  every  river  has  run  dry,  and 
the  sea  is  without  a  drop,  this  family  bond  shall  roll  through 
the  immense  channels  of  our  immortal  being,  streams  of 
glory.  This  assurance  of  the  indestructibility  of  the  family 
bond,  fills  even  the  grief-stricken  with  ecstacy,  and  sheds 
gleams  of  eternal  sunshine  upon  the  life,  dark  with  afflictive 
bereavements.  And  is  there  not  a  depth  of  consolation  in 
this,  which  should  reanimate  with  joy  those  desolate  souls 
which  are  wasting  away  in  sighs  of  grief!  Come  to  the  cross, 
ye  mourning  and  afflicted  ones ;  gather  around  the  bleeding 
sacrifice  of  Calvary ;  steep  those  hearts  in  atoning  blood, 
until,  washed  and  purified,  they  become  the  habitation  of  the 


THE   FAMILY   BOND.  311 

Holy  Ghost,  and  he  will  give  birth  to  such  hopes  as  will  shed 
a  sweet  peace  over  your  wounded  and  weary  spirits,  while 
they  will  raise  you  into  communion  with  the  saints  on  high. 
And  if  we  are  exalted  into  fellowship  with  the  Father  and 
the  Son,  we  shall  finally  ascend  to  the  presence  of  God, 
"  where  there  is  fulness  of  joy,  and  to  his  right  hand  where 
there  are  pleasures  forevermore." 


CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 

AT  THE  SEPULCHRES  OF  OUR  DEPARTED  WE  MAY 
ALSO  LEARN  THE  RIGHT  WHICH  GOD  HOLDS  IN 
US  AND   OUR    FAMILIES. 


"  No  man  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself.  For  whether 
we  live,  "we  live  unto  the  Lord,  and  whether  we  die,  we  die  unto  the 
Lord ;    whether  we  live,  therefore,  or  die,  we  are  the  Lord's." 


In  the  death  of  those  we  love,  God  declares  His  sovereign 
right  to  us,  and  to  ours.  He  alone  has  power  to  give  life, 
and  power  to  take  it  away.  "  We  are  the  Lord's."  And 
it  is  at  the  graves  of  departed  ones  that  we  realize  the  fact, 
that  it  is  the  Divine  prerogative,  to  do  with  us  and  our 
families  as  the  wisdom  of  His  counsel  may  suggest  best 
suited  to  promote  His  glory,  and  to  advance  our  happiness. 
And  if  our  minds  are  properly  instructed  in  relation  to  the 
right  which  He  holds  in  all  His  creatures,  and  our  hearts  are 
schooled  to  acquiesce  in  all  the  dispensations  of  His  Provi- 
dence, we  will  be  able  to  say  in  seasons  of  bereavement  — 
"It  is  the  Lord;  let  him  do  what  seemeth  him  good." 
"  The  Lord  gave,  the  Lord  hath  taken  away :  blessed  be  the 
name  of  the  Lord."     In  the  language  of  the  Apostle  which  I 

(312) 


god's  iiiaiiT  IN  us.  313 

have  placed  at  the  head  of  this  chapter,  there  are  two  impor- 
tant truths  asserted.  No  man  liveth  to  himself.  Man  is  a 
part  of  a  great  system,  a  link  in  that  chain  which  binds  him 
in  sympathy  with  all  things.  He  is  so  connected  with  the 
great  universe  of  mind,  that  he  cannot  so  isolate  himself  as 
to  act  alone,  or  have  the  results  of  his  actions  terminate  upon 
himself.  It  is  utterly  impossible  for  him  not  to  affect  others 
by  his  life  and  death.  He  will  contribute  his  influence  for 
evil  or  for  good,  to  the  commynity  which  is  the  sphere  of  his 
exertions.  But  upon  this  truth  I  will  not  dwell,  and  there- 
fore, at  once  pass  to  the  consideration  of  the  other,  viz : 
"  that  we  are  the  Lord's."  We  belong  to  God.  "  All  souls 
are  mine,  saith  the  Lord,  as  the  soul  of  the  father,  so  also  the 
soul  of  the  son  is  mine."  As  the  fashioner  of  our  bodies 
and  the  framer  of  our  spirits,  He  has  the  same  sovereign  right 
in  us  and  our  families,  as  He  has  in  any  of  His  other  creations. 
As  the  Creator  of  the  universe,  it  is  perfectly  just  that  "He 
has  established  His  throne  in  the  heavens,  and  that  His  king- 
dom ruleth  over  all."  We  question  not  his  right  to  every 
system  and  planet,  to  every  star  which  flames  in  the  firma- 
ment above,  to  this  earth  with  all  its  furniture,  to  every 
creature,  rational  or  irrational,  for  He  is  the  Almighty  Maker 
of  heaven  and  earth,  of  things  visible  and  invisible.  The 
Psalmist  says,  "the  sea  is  His,  for  He  made  it."  And  the 
Lord  himself  says,  "  every  beast  of  the  forest  is  mine,  and 
the  cattle  upon  a  thousand  hills.  I  know  all  the  fowls  of  the 
mountains;  and  the  wild  beasts  of  the  field  are  mine  —  the 
world  also  and  the  fulness  thereof."  If  we  grant,  therefore, 
27 


314  THE    SEPULCHRE    AN    EVIDENCE    OF 

that  He  has  an  indisputable  right  to  every  creature,  from  the 
tall  archangel  to  the  worm  which  crawls  in  the  dust ;  if  the 
fowls  of  the  air,  and  the  fishes  of  the  sea  ;  if  all  the  gems  and 
the  buried  wealth  of  the  earth,  as  well  as  the  gold  and  silver, 
are  His,  then  upon  the  same  ground  may  His  right  be 
asserted  to  every  human  being.  We  are  the  Lord's  by 
the  right  of  creation.  He  is  the  centre  from  which  proceeded 
that  creative  energy  which  peopled  immensity  with  its  glo\v- 
ing  orbs,  with  its  suns  and  systems.  From  the  same  source 
issued  the  wisdom  and  power  which  formed  man,  and  which 
uphold  him,  for  God  is  the  fountain  of  his  blessing,  the  spring 
of  his  joy,  and  the  centre  of  his  glory. 

There  is  no  better,  or  higher  right  known  or  recognized 
in  the  universe,  than  that  which  God  has  in  us.  All  nations, 
civilized  and  barbarous.  Christian  and  pagan,  concede  the 
right  of  property  to  him  who  is  the  originator  or  producer  of 
a  thing.  And  the  law  of  the  land  throws  its  shield  of  protec- 
tion over  the  productions  of  man's  physical  or  intellectual 
energies.  The  creations  of  genius,  as  well  as  the  fruits  of 
humble  toil,  are  secured  to  their  proper  owners.  If  an 
individual  invents  some  nicely  contrived  machinery,  by  which 
labor  is  lessened  in  the  production  of  some  article  of  com 
merce,  and  it  thus  becomes  a  source  of  gain,  he  is  protected 
in  his  right,  and  in  whatever  of  distinction  or  profit  it  may 
confer  upon  him.  The  sculptor  sits  down  to  a  block  of 
marble,  and  by  patient  toil,  directed  by  the  force  of  a  high 
genius,  elaborates  a  human  form  clothed  with  grace  and 
beauty,  and  fitted  to  adorn  the    cabinet :  and  he  not  only 


god's  right  in  us.  315 

claims,  but  all  men  cheerfully  accord  to  him  the  right  of 
property  in  it.  And  if  he  had  the  power  to  clothe  thai 
statue  with  muscles  of  flesh,  and  place  within  it  a  throbbing 
heart  and  heaving  lungs ;  and  if  he  could  endow  it  with 
intellectual  and  moral  faculties,  and  make  it  a  thing  of  life, 
of  motion,  and  of  thought,  it  would  be  no  less  his.  And  this 
is  precisely  \vhat  God  has  done  for  every  human  being.  He 
has  bestowed  upon  us  the  powers  of  sensibility  and  of 
thought.  "  We  are  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made,"  "  and 
the  breath  of  the  Almighty  hath  given  us  understanding." 
And  having  made  us,  has  He  not  a  right  in  us,  far  more  just 
and  absolute,  than  the  artist  has  in  the  production  of  his 
genius  ?  And  may  not  He,  without  the  slightest  infringement 
upon  the  laws  of  justice  or  propriety,  dispose  of  us  in  any 
way  that  his  pleasure  may  dictate  or  his  glory  demand  ?  And 
the  argument  loses  none  of  its  force,  when  it  is  applied  to 
any  thing  which  we  possess,  whether  it  be  property,  or  friends, 
or  children  ;  for  all  are  the  gift  of  Almighty  God.  These 
are  treasures  loaned  to  us  by  the  Lord,  and  may  be  demanded 
by  Him  at  any  time.  And  if  He  has  need  of  the  services  of 
our  friends  or  children  elsewhere,  and  removes  them, 
not  reluctantly,  but  cheerfully  should  they  be  surrendered. 
When  He  would  place  another  gem  in  the  Redeemer's 
diadem,  add  another  note  to  the  lofty  anthem  of  redeeming 
love,  or  needs  another  ministering  spirit  in  the* execution  of 
the  work  of  redemption,  it  should  be  a  matter  of  granulation, 
if  we  are  privileged  to  furnish  God  one  from  our  fold,  for  the 
accomplishment  of  such  an  end.     We  should  early  learn  this 


316        THE  SEPULCHRE  AN  EVIDENCE  OF 

lesson,  and  always  cherish  a  realizing  sense  of  His  right  in 
us  and  our  families.  And  do  we  not  offer  our  infants  to  the 
Lord  in  Holy  Baptism,  and  thus  solemnly  consecrate  them  to 
His  service,  and  by  this  means  virtually  acknowledge  His 
right  to  claim  them  whenever  it  seemeth  Him  good  to  transfer 
them  from  earth  to  heaven?  We  should,  therefore,  resign 
them  to  His  arms  without  a  murmur. 

We  find  a  very  interesting  illustration  on  this  point,  in  the 
history  of  a  Swiss  lady,  and  the  wife  of  an  honorable  and 
distinguished  nobleman.  Having  been  carefully  educated  in 
the  great  principles  of  Christianity,  she  was  known  as  a 
w^oman  of  eminent  piety,  who  had  correct  views  of  God's 
right  to  all  that  He  had  placed  in  her  possession.  Her 
marriage  was  blest  with  two  little  boys  ;  and  these  being  the 
only  children,  both  parents  ardently  cherished  them.  They 
were  spared  to  them,  until  they  had  arrived  at  that  interesting 
age  when  the  body  glows  with  its  highest  charms,  and  the 
mental  and  moral  faculties  unfold  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
make  youth  exceedingly  lovely.  Gentle,  amiable,  and  intelli- 
gent, they  were  truly  the  jewels  of  their  fond  parents.  Some 
important  business  about  this  time  called  the  father  away 
from  his  home,  and  during  his  absence  they  took  ill 
and  died,  a  short  time  before  he  had  returned.  He  had 
known  nothing  of  their  illness  or  death  ;  and  his  excellent 
wife,  feeling  the  importance  of  gently  breaking  the  painful 
intelligence,  as  soon  as  she  had  welcomed  him  home,  thus 
addressed  him  :  "My  husband,  I  have  something  to  tell  you, 
■^hich  I  did   during  your  absence,  and  must  know  at  once, 


god's  right  in  us.  317 

whether  it  meets  your  approbation.  While  you  were  away, 
a  friend  of  mine  who  some  years  ago  loaned  me  a  number  of 
jewels,  came  here  and  said  that  he  needed  them,  and  there- 
fore found  it  necessary  to  demand  them.  I  told  him  that  as 
my  husband  as  well  as  myself  greatly  valued  them,  I  would 
prefer,  if  he  could  wait  until  your  return,  and  I  would  then 
restore  them  ;  but  this  he  declined,  and  kindly  but  firmly 
claimed  them  ;  and  so  I  surrendered  them  to  the  owner. 
Did  I  do  right,  my  lord  ?"  The  husband  replied,  "  How  can 
my  good  wife  ask  me  such  a  question  ?  surely  it  was  right." 
"  Come  then,"  she  said,  "this  way;"  and  leading  him  to  the 
couch  where  she  had  laid  her  loved  ones,  she  lifted  the  white 
sheet  from  her  lovely  boys  who  were  sleeping  in  death,  and 
said,  "  These  are  my  jewels.  God  gave  them  ;  God  claimed 
them  while  you  were  away,  and  I  gave  them  up,"  and  she  fell 
upon  his  bosom  and  wept.  The  intelligence  was  well  broken, 
for,  as  soon  as  the  stricken  father  could  command  utterance, 
he  said,  "  The  Lord  gave,  the  Lord  hath  taken  away,  blessed 
be  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

But  w^e  are  the  Lord's  not  only  because  we  are  the 
creatures  of  His  power,  but  also  because  to  this  right  of 
creation  He  adds  that  of  preservation.  He  who  stretched 
out  the  heavens,  and  formed  the  earth,  and  created  man  upon 
it,  is  also  the  gracious  Preserver  of  all  things.  The  creating 
and  sustaining  power  reside  in  the  same  Being.  The  preserv- 
ing mercy  or  providence  of  God  extends  over  ad  the 
universe  ;  it  is  felt  in  the  world  farthest  from  His  throne, 
and  in  the  least  as  in  tlKj,  greatest  of  objects.  Systems,  suns, 
97* 


318        THE  SEPULCHRE  AN  EVIDENCE  OF 

and  stars,  are  fed  by  His  light,  and  clothed  with  glory  by  His 
hand  ;  and  all  are  moved  by  the  impulse  of  the  Almighty's 
will.  And  thus,  also,  does  His  merciful  providence  extend 
over  us,  and  hold  us  in  being.  We  are  as  dependent  upon 
God  for  life  and  its  varied  blessings,  as  the  infant  is  upon  the 
bosom  of  its  mother  from  which  it  draws  its  nourishment. 
The  Apostle  expresses  this  idea  very  forcibly  when  he  says, 
"In  Him  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being."  Inde- 
pendently of  His  preserving  mercy,  there  is  no  life  and  no 
blessing.  Pluck  up  a  tree  or  a  plant  by  its  roots,  and  thus 
destroy  its  connection  with  the  earth,  and  it  will  quickly  die. 
And  thus  if  God's  providential  care  should  be  withdrawn 
from  us,  we  would  cease  to  exist.  We  hold  the  same  rela- 
.  tion  to  His  sustaining  power  as  the  members  do  to  the  body ; 
and  just  as  this  arm,  if  severed  from  its  source  of  life,  would 
fall  to  the  earth  and  rot,  thus,  also,  would  we  instantly  perish 
were  we  cut  off  from  the  vital  source  of  all  things.  If  He  is, 
therefore,  the  author  of  our  being  and  the  preserver  of  our 
lives,  we  are  unquestionably  His  property.  And  if  in  His 
wisdom  He  removes  us,  or  any  that  we  cherish.  He  is  only 
enforcing  that  right  to  us  which  we  have  already  acknow- 
ledged, and  must  daily  acknowledge.  And  not  only  does 
God  claim  us  because  He  has  brought  us  into  being, 
and  preserves  us  from  day  to  day,  but  He  is  continually 
occupied  in  doing  us  good.  We  breathe  His  air,,  enjoy 
His  sunshine,  drink  refreshing  draughts  from  His  fountains, 
and  are  nourished  by  the  fruits  which  His  providence 
rroduces.      There  is  no  blessing  ftf  which  He  is  not   the 


god's  eight  in  us.  319 

author  ;  for  "  every  good  and  every  perfect  gift  cometh 
down  from  the  Father  of  lights,  with  whom  there  is  no 
variableness,  neither  shadow  of  turning."  If  in  this  world  a 
human  being  could  be  divorced  from  all  the  favors  of  Provi- 
dence, what  would  there  be  left  ? 

And  while  it  is  of  His  infinite  and  spontaneous  mercy  that 
we  are  upheld  and  nourished,  He  gives  us  all  needful  bless- 
ings in  rich  abundance.  His  smiles  fell  upon  our  helpless 
infancy,  and  the  light  of  His  countenance  illumines  our  path 
through  life.  And  while  we  are  under  solemn  obligations  to 
love  and  to  serve  Him,  and  to  place  ourselves  and  all  we 
have  at  His  disposal,  in  view  of  the  manifold  favors  which 
we  have  received  from  His  hands.  He  has  also  been  to  us  a 
covert  from  the  storm,  and  a  shield  in  the  day  of  peril.  He 
has  guarded  us  from  dangers  seen  and  unseen.  When 
visible  calamities  threatened  to  overwhelm  us.  He  reached 
over  us  His  protecting  arm.  And  the  records  of  eternity 
will  only  reveal  the  countless,  unseen  dangers  from  which 
the  hand  of  Jehovah  delivered  us  along  the  journey  of  life. 
It  will  then  be  made  manifest  how  "  He  gave  His  angels 
charge  concerning  us  ;"  how  they  encamped  about  us  by 
night,  and  watched  over  us  by  day ;  for  "  white-winged 
angels  meet  the  child  on  the  vestibule  of  life,"  attend  it 
through  its  pilgrimage,  and  hover  around  the  coffin  of  old 
age,  and  never  relinquish  their  ministering  office  until  they 
have  borne  the  spirit  to  the  bosom  of  God.  And  it  is  this 
sleepless  anxiety,  this  fatherly  solicitude  which  the  great  God 
every  moment  exercises  over  us,  that  gives  Him  an  undoubted 


320  THE    SEPULCHRE    AN    EVIDENCE    OF 

right  to  us  who  are  the  objects  of  His  care,  and  the  recipients 
of  His  mercies. 

But  there  is  another  right  recognized  among  men  as  just 
which  God  holds  in  us,  and  that  is,  the  right  acquired  by- 
possession.  "  By  the  law  of  nations  the  first  discoverer  of  a 
country  is  regarded  as  entitled  to  its  possession ;  and  the 
mventor  of  an  art  hath  a  right  of  exercising  it."  And  if  it 
be  deemed  just  (and  mankind  are  agreed  as  to  this,)  for  a 
nation  to  claim  the  ownership  in  a  continent  or  an  island  by 
virtue  of  its  discovery  and  possession,  though  they  could 
have  had  no  agency  in  the  formation  of  its  soil,  or  tlie  crea- 
tion of  its  wealth,  how  much  more  may  God  claim  us  as  His 
rightful  property,  when  He  has  made  us,  and  possessed  us 
from  our  infancy !  It  w'as  under  His  fostering  care  that  our 
minds  were  taught  to  think,  and  our  hearts  to  feel.  He  held 
us  within  the  embraces  of  His  love  and  the  circle  of  His 
protection;  and  in  the  light  of  His  favor  and  under  the 
gracious  influences  which  He  breathed  upon  us,  our  souls 
have  grown  to  their  present  expansion.  Those  objects  in 
the  external  world  which  excited  our  minds  to  intellectual 
efibrts,  and  which  warmed  our  affections  into  life,  were 
placed  there  by  His  hand.  Those  glowing  heavens  which 
kindled  admiration  in  our  souls,  which  gave  wing  to  our 
thoughts  and  grasp  ^to  our  imaginations;  those  varied 
landscapes,  and  bold  mountains,  magnificent  rivers,  and 
capacious  seas,  whose  beauty  and  grandeur  charmed 
our  eyes,  invigorated  and  expanded  our  intellects,  were 
all   fashioned   and  adorned   by  infinite   power.      "  Lift  up 


god's  right  in  us.  321 

your  eyes  on  high,  and  behold  who  hath  created  these  things, 
that  bringeth  out  their  hosts  by  number :  He  calleth  them  all 
by  names,  by  the  greatness  of  his  might,  for  that  He  is  strong 
in  power,  not  one  faileth."  And  while  all  those  objects  in 
nature  which  have  contributed  to  the  development  of  our 
intellectual  faculties,  were  created  by  the  Lord ;  thus,  also, 
must  that  moral  excellence  which  any  of  us  possess,  be 
ascribed  to  those  divinely  ordained  instrumentalities  and 
influences  which  have  come  from  Him.  No  human  agency, 
apart  from  the  divine  blessing,  can  refine,  elevate,  and 
sanctify  our  spiritual  being.  All  good  desires,  and  all 
virtuous  actions,  must  be  regarded  as  the  products  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  So  that,  in  whatever  light  we  may  regard  our- 
selves, we  are  emphatically  the  Lord's.  "  He  has  fearfully 
and  wonderfully  made  us;" — taught  our  bodies  to  move,  our 
minds  to  think,  and  our  hearts  to  love  ;  and  therefore,  in  view 
of  these  considerations.  He  has  a  perfect  right  to  us,  and 
to  dispose  of  us,  paramount  to  that  of  the  potter  over  his 
vessel. 

But  we  are  the  Lord's  by  purchase  or  redemption.  Man, 
by  his  voluntary  disobedience,  fell  under  the  displeasure  of 
God.  He  forfeited  every  claim  to  the  Divine  favor,  and 
became  the  victim  of  a  painful  vassalage,  and  the  slave  of 
sin.  "He  was  sold  under  the  law,"  and  no  created  power 
could  redeem  him  from  the  curse  which  he  had  brought  upon 
himself.  Doomed  to  everlasting  wo,  God  might  have  left 
him  in  this  lamentable  condition  without  bringing  any  reflec- 
tion upon  His  government.     He  might  have  permitted  this 


322        THE  SEPULCHRE  AN  EVIDENCE  OF 

whole  rebellious  race  to  lie  forever  under  the  weight  of  a 
deep  damnation,  and  His  throne  would  have  remained  spot- 
less. But  His  mercy  restrained  justice,  and  so  eloquently 
pleaded  the  cause  of  the  fallen,  that  the  adorable  Son  of  God 
compassionated  our  condition,  and  covenanted  with  the 
Father  to  assume  our  debt,  and  to  suffer  in  our  stead,  the 
penalty  of  the  violated  law.  It  was  the  law  of  a  great  God, 
and  a  great  empire,  which  had  been  broken,  and  it  demanded 
a  sacrifice  for  atonement,  corresponding  in  dignity  with  the 
divine  statute.  None  but  the  Supreme  law-giver  could  furnish 
an  expedient,  and  hence  Jesus  Christ  alone  could  redeem  us. 
By  a  union  of  His  divine  nature  with  the  human.  He  could 
make  an  adequate  atonement,  for  His  sufferings  would  be  as 
infinite  in  their  merit,  as  were  his  perfections  in  dignity  ;  and 
thus  He  constitutes  the  link  in  that  chain  which  binds  us  iu 
reconciliation  with  God.  "  For  we  are  redeemed  not  with  cor- 
ruptible things,  such  as  silver  and  gold,  but  with  the  precious 
blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  who  was  slain  as  a  lamb  without  spot 
and  without  blemish."  "  He  was  wounded  for  our  transgres- 
sions, and  with  his  stripes  we  are  healed."  "  The  Lord  hath 
laid  on  Him  the  iniquity  of  us  all."  And  it  was  in  virtue  of 
His  atoning  sacrifice  that  the  whole  race  became  his  property. 
To  Him,  are  promised,  "  the  heathen  for  his  inheritance,  and 
the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  for  his  possession."  In  view 
of  His  humiliation  and  death,  "  the  Father  also  hath  highly  ex- 
alted Him,  and  given  Him  a  name  above  every  other  name. 
That  at  the  name  of  Jesus,"  as  the  great  mediatorial  king, 
"  every  knee  should  bow,  of  things  in  heaven,  and  things  in 


god's    RIGIIIT   IN    US.  323 

earth,  and  things  under  the  earth ;  And  that  every  tongue 
should  confess  that  Jesus  Christ  is  Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God 
the  Father."  It  is  not  necessary  to  enlarge  upon  this  point  in 
order  to  prove  that  we  are  Christ's,  and  that  He  has  a  sovereign 
right  in  those  whom  He  has  redeemed  ;  suffice  it  to  say,  that  the 
law  of  the  universe  recognized  us  as  slaves  to  a  perpetual  bond- 
age, and  by  the  authority  of  that  law,  Jesus  Christ  has  obtained 
an  eternal  right  to  the  whole  human  family.  Among  the  ancient 
Romans  there  was  a  statute  called  "the  redemption  law," 
which  allowed  citizens  to  purchase  captives  taken  in  war, 
and  subject  them  to  involuntary  servitude  for  life,  or  free  them 
at  their  pleasure.  But  when  persons  of  this  class  were 
emancipated  by  their  masters,  it  was  considered  that  gratitude 
and  friendship  should  cause  the  captives  to  remain  in  the 
sarvice  of  him  who  befriended  them,  by  first  redeeming  them, 
and  then  giving  them  their  freedom.  And  should  not  our 
love  for  our  compassioilate  Redeemer,  act  with  such  force  as 
to  make  us  His  willing  servants,  and  induce  us  to  place  our- 
selves and  our  all  at  His  disposal  ?  For,  has  He  not  redeemed 
us  from  a  worse  slavery,  and  possessed  us  of  a  more  glorious 
liberty  ?  A  few  years  ago,  a  wealthy  gentleman  of  New 
Orleans  manumitted  two  slaves,  who  had  faithfully  served 
him,  and  legally  secured  ample  provision  for  their  support, 
and  shortly  afterwards  died.  And  now,  these  colored  men, 
thus  befriended,  out  of  gratitude  to  their  benefactor,  spend 
several  hours  each  day  in  scouring  the  marble  of  his  tomb, 
and  in  decorating  with  fresh  flowers,  the  place  of  his  repose. 
Whatever  we  may  think  of  the  manner  in  which  they  show 


824        THE  SEPULCHKE  AN  EVIDENCE  OF 

their  gratitude  to  their  former  master,  we  must  admit  that 
they  exhibit  a  commendable  appreciation  of  his  goodness. 
And  if  we  appreciate  the  kindness  of  our  Divine  Master,  and 
properly  value  the  benefactions  with  which  he  has  crowned 
us,  should  we  not  be  w-illing  to  give  to  our  exalted  Re- 
deemer, a  few  of  the  flowers  which  adorn  the  garden  of  our 
home,  wherewith  He  may  decorate  His  throne  in  heaven  ? 
Yes!  we,  our  children,  and  friends,  are  all  Thine,  blessed 
Saviour,  for  Thou  hast  purchased  us  with  Thy  anguish  and 
blood  ;  and  we  will  not  withhold  from  Thee,  those  whom 
Thou  wilt  make  partakers  of  Thy  glory. 

Such  a  recognition  of  the  Divine  right  to  us  and  our 
families  carries  with  it  many  blessed  advantages.  It  Avill 
exert  a  good  influence  upon  us  while  we  are  occupied  in 
their  education,  and  in  making  provision  for  their  support. 
It  will  incline  us  to  bring  up  our  children  in  the  nurture  and 
admonition  of  the  Lord,  so  that,  when  they  are  removed 
from  earth,  they  may  be  fitted  for  heaven.  With  just  con- 
ceptions of  the  relation  which  they  and  we  sustain  to  God, 
our  influence  over  them,  and  our  training  of  them,  will  all  be 
regulated  in  such  a  manner  as  to  secure  for  us  all  the  Divine 
approbation.  It  will,  also,  induce  us  to  bestow  a  higher  care 
and  culture  upon  their  souls  than  upon  their  bodies.  Regard- 
ing them  as  youthful  immortals,  we  will  strive  to  invest  them 
with  those  spiritual  adornments  which  will  fit  them  to  shine 
not  so  much  upon  the  theatre  of  this  world  as  in  the  king- 
dom of  their  Father  above.  And  we  will  be  much  more 
concerned  to  make  them  heirs  of  the  riches  of  eternal  glory, 


god's  right  in  us.  325 

than  to  make  them  the  inheritors  of  those  treasures  which  are 
transient  and  perishable.  For  a  title  to  the  mansions  of  God 
and  to  the  fields  of  light,  written  by  the  Spirit  upon  their 
hearts,  \vill,  in  our  estimation,  far  exceed  in  value  the  parch- 
ment that  would  make  them  heirs  of  earthly  kingdoms. 
And  when  there  are  unremitted  efforts  put  forth  on  our  part 
to  bring  them  to  a  knowledge  of  Him,  whom  to  know  aright 
is  life  eternal,  we  can  scarcely  fail  of  success,  since  God  is 
striving  with  us  for  the  accomplishment  of  the  same  end. 

This  acknowledgment  of  the  Divine  right  in  us  and  to  our 
families  will  also  exert  an  important  and  determining  power 
in  regard  to  the  pursuits  in  which  we  might  wish  our  children 
to  engage.  We  will  not  withhold  them  from  any  work  or 
position  which  the  providence  of  God  clearly  marks  out  for 
them.  We  will  not  object,  but  rejoice,  if  they  choose  even 
the  most  self-denying  and  arduous  callings,  if  by  so  doing 
they  glorify  God,  and  secure  the  salvation  of  their  souls. 
And  while  it  will  reconcile  us  to  any  sacrifice  of  feeling  or 
comfort  which  we  may  endure  when  God  calls  a  child  to 
labor  in  some  distant  field,  it  also  compensates  us  by  the 
delightful  assurance  that  the  energies  of  its  being  are  devoted 
to  their  appropriate  use.  But  a  recognition  of  this  right 
will  also  exert  a  good  influence  upon  our  attachments.  These 
w^ill  be  formed  with  reference  to,  and  in  subordination  of,  the 
Divine  right  in  the  objects  we  love.  We  will  cherish  each 
other  as  immortal  beings,  so  that  when  death  parts  us  we 
acquiesce  in  the  dispensation  enforcing  the  right  which 
28 


326        THE  SEPULCHRE  AN  EVIDENCE  OF 

God  holds  in  our  friends.  And  thus,  in  every  bereavement 
will  we  see  the  finger  of  the  Lord,  and  find  consolation 
for  our  o-rief-stricken  hearts.  This  doctrine  carries  a  sweet 
savor  into  all  the  relations  of  life,  and  clothes  all  things  with 
an  unearthly  charm.  In  its  light  I  look  upon  myself  and  my 
family  as  the  property  of  God  ;  and  I  must  not,  therefore, 
put  my  faculties,  my  time,  and  talents,  to  any  other  use  than 
that  which  He  has  designated.  The  sphere  which  He  has 
appointed  is  the  only  appropriate  sphere  for  my  exertions. 
The  work  which  He  has  commanded  I  must  cheerfully  per- 
form. And  so  far  as  my  influence  can  control  the  lives  and 
actions  of  others,  it  must  be  exerted  to  bring  them  into  con- 
formity with  the  Divine  will.  In  what  an  interesting  light 
will  all  things  be  contemplated,  if  we  cherish  sentiments 
which  recognize  God  as  the  owner  and  ruler  of  them. 
And  with  such  views,  how  easy  it  is  to  consecrate  our  mental 
and  moral  faculties,  our  property,  and  our  children,  to  the 
service  and  glory  of  Him  whose  we  are !  0 !  it  stamps  an 
immortal  worth  upon  our  bodies  and  souls,  and  throws  an 
inconceivable  grandeur  around  the  destiny  of  human  beings. 
And  where  there  is  a  hearty  acknowledgment  of  this  right, 
and  a  full  surrender  of  ourselves  to  Him  who  claims  us,  we 
pass  from  a  state  of  sin  to  a  state  of  holiness  ;  and  from  the 
bondage  of  corruption  and  the  gloomy  prospect  of  eternal 
wrath  to  the  heirship  of  unclouded  and  everlasting  glory. 
For  when  we  believe  that  we  are  His  by  creation,  preserva- 
tion, and  redemption,  and  receive  Jesus  Christ  in  all  His 


god's  right  in  us.  327 

fulness  and  all  His  offices,  we  enter  into  the  possession  of 
all  things.     All  things  are  your's,  says  the  Apostle.     And  to 
what  an  exalted  position  are  Christians  then  elevated !     We 
have  an  interest  in,  and  a  right  to,  all  the  universe,  for  we  are 
heirs  with  Christ  —  heirs  of  all  the  worlds  which  people  im- 
mensity,  of   all   the  blessings   and   resources   of    universal 
dominion,   and   of   all   the   glories   which    may  be    evolved 
through  the  tremendous  cycles  of  endless  duration  out  of  the 
unfathomable  bosom  of  eternity  and  the  infinite  nature  of 
Jehovah.     And  with  such  a  hope,  death  itself  becomes  one 
of  our  greatest  earthly  blessings,  forasmuch  as  it  ushers  us 
into  this  boundless  circle  of  high  and  perpetual  glory.     And 
while  we  fmd  in  this  assurance  every  thing  to  sustain  us,  it 
also  reconciles  us  to  the  departure  of  those  we  love.     For  to 
whatever  comfort,  happiness,  honor,  and  renown  they  might 
have  been  exalted  on  earth,  all  honorable  distinctions  here 
are  but  as  a  drop  to  the  ocean,  when  compared  with  their 
portion   in  eternity.     Let  us,   then,   devoutly  acknowledge 
God's  right  in  us  and  our  families ;  and  by  earnest  prayer 
and  lively  faith  draw  upon  our  homes  those  gracious  influences 
from  above,  which  will  beautify  our  souls  with  salvation,  and 
qualify  us  for  an   abundant  entrance  into  the  "  rest  which 
remaineth  to  the  people  of  God."   Lord  Jesus,  do  Thou  help 
us  to  recognize  in  Thy  blood-stained  cross  the  infinite  price 
which  Thou  hast  paid  for  our  redemption,  and  draw  us  with 
the  sweet  influences  of  Thy  grace,  and  mould  us  into  Thine 
own  image ;  for 


328       THE  SEPULCHRE  AN  EVIDENCE,  ETC. 

•'  Thou  art  the  source  and  centre  of  all  minds, 
Their  only  point  of  rest,  eternal  Christ ; 
From  thee  departing,  they  are  lost,  and  rovo 
At  random,  without  honor,  hope,  or  peace. 
From  Thee  is  all  that  smoothes  the  life  of  man ; 
His  high  endeavours,  and  his  glad  success ; 
His  strength  to  suffer,  and  his  will  to  serve! 
But  0  !  thou  bounteous  giver  of  all  good, 
Thou  art  of  all  thy  gifts  thyself  the  crown  ; 
Give  what  thou  canst,  without  thee  we  are  poor, 
And  with  thee  rich,  take  what  thou  wilt  away." 


CHAPTER  SIXTEENTH. 


FUTURE   RECOGNITION 


*•!  felt  that  however  long  to  me 
The  slumber  of  the  grave  might  be  ; 
I  should  know  him  again,  'mid  the  countless  throng, 
Who  shall  bear  a  part  in  the  Seraphim's  song." 


Shall  we  know  our  friends  in  heaven  ?  This  question 
has  been  either  silently  or  audibly  uttered  by  all  thoughtful 
minds,  while  lingering  around  the  remains  of  their  departed. 
Such  an  intense  interest  hangs  around  this  subject,  that  it 
may  be  safely  presumed,  no  one  can  be  altogether  indif- 
ferent to  the  answer  which  may  be  given  to  the  question. 
And  while  nothing  more  than  detached  or  incidental  remarks 
from  others  have  fallen  under  my  notice ;  and  to  my 
knowledge,  no  elaborate  discussion  to  disprove  this  univer- 
sally received  doctrine  has  ever  been  attempted,  it  is  some- 
what remarkable  that  the  interrogatory  should  be  so  frequently 
and  anxiously  addressed  to  us  by  those  bereaved  ones,  to 
whom  we  administer  the  consolations  of  the  gospel.  But  is 
not  this  fact  in  itself  the  most  conclusive  proof  of  the 
intensity  of  feeling  with  which  the  subject  is  pondered  in 
2S*  (;-i29) 


330  FUTURE    RECOGNITION. 

their  own  hearts  ?  Even  those  who  have  no  doubts  as  to  its 
truthfulness,  feel  as  though  they  must  be  reassured  and 
established  in  the  belief,  that  they  shall  know  those  in  heaven 
whom  they  loved  on  earth.  And  in  a  matter  so  vitally 
connected  with  our  peace,  and  which  is  so  eminently  fitted 
to  beget  within  us  a  holy  resignation  to  the  Divine  dispensa- 
tions, and  inspire  us  wath  the  most  delightful  anticipations,  it 
is  certainly  proper  to  gather  all  the  light  and  argument  which 
it  is  possible  to  furnish  on  this  subject.  And  more  particu- 
larly, because,  while  it  animates  the  Christian  in  his  upward 
journey,  and  arms  him  with  fortitude  under  trials,  it  presents 
a  powerful  inducement  to  the  neglecters  of  religion,  to 
renounce  their  sins,  and  to  seek  that  moral  preparation  which 
is  absolutely  essential  to  bring  them  into  blessed  reunion  with 
sainted  friends.  But  to  feel  the  truth  of  a  subject,  and  to 
unfold  it  intelligently,  and  to  establish  it  logically,  are  very 
different  things.  All  persons  know  the  refreshing  qualities 
of  water,  and  yet  many  cannot  describe  its  constituent  parts. 
All  know^  the  importance  of  light,  in  those  revelations  of  the 
world  around  us  which  it  makes  to  our  vision ;  and  yet  while 
all  may  know  the  effects  it  produces,  many  may  be  unac- 
quainted with  its  properties  and  its  laws.  And  thus  it  is  in 
relation  to  some  moral  subjects,  which  are  more  particularly 
matters  of  faith  ;  they  may  be  felt  with  all  the  certainty  of  a 
demonstration,  and  yet  lie  beyond  the  range  of  our  discern- 
ment and  proof.  All  things  which  pertain  to  the  invisible 
world,  are  shrouded  in  mystery  and  obscurity,  if  the  light  of 
revelation  has  not  fallen  upon  them  and  discovered  them  to 


FUTURE    RECOGNITION.  331 

our  apprehension.  And  while  the  scriptures  do  not  speak  so 
clearly  and  distinctly  on  this  subject,  as  upon  many  others, 
they  give  us  intimations  in  relation  to  it,  which  cannot  well 
be  misunderstood,  and  open  to  us  a  large  field  where  we  may 
gather  inferential  proof  of  a  strong  and  decided  character. 
These  we  shall  bring  forward  in  their  appropriate  place.  The 
first  reason  which  we  would  assign  for  our  belief  in  this 
doctrine,  is,  that  according  to  our  apprehensions  of  the  bless- 
edness of  the  saints  in  heaven,  the  recognition  of  those  with 
whom  we  were  intimately  associated,  and  whom  we  loved 
on  earth,  forms  an  important  element  of  future  happiness.  I 
am  aware,  that  persons  in  speaking  of  the  felicity  of  the 
righteous,  have  sometimes  expressed  themselves  in  a  manner 
which  might  induce  the  belief,  that  their  souls  are  so  filled 
with  the  Divine  glory,  that  God  forms  the  only  object  of  their 
enjoyment,  admiration,  and  rapture.  And  while  we  readily 
concede  that  the  manifestations  of  the  adorable  Trinity,  form 
the  prominent  and  chief  source  of  the  glory  of  the  redeemed  ; 
we  cannot  suppose  that  there  will  be  such  an  absorption  in 
God,  that  all  other  objects  fitted  to  contribute  to  their  felicity 
will  be  set  aside,  or  annihilated.  On  the  contrary,  we  are 
permitted  to  believe  that  other  things,  apart  from  God,  will 
be  contempt] ated  and  enjoyed  with  satisfaction.  The  blessings 
and  mysteries  of  redemption  constitute  a  theme  to  which 
sainted  as  well  as  angelic  minds  will  forever  turn  with 
increasing  wonder ;  but  our  conceptions  of  heaven  make  it 
necessary  that  other  things  should  become  tributary  to  their 
happiness.     From  the  structure  of  the  mind,  as  well  as  from 


832  .  FUTURE    RECOGNITION. 

our  experience  in  regard  to  our  intellectual  and  moral  opera- 
tions, variety  in  the  objects  contemplated,  and  in  the  exer- 
cises engaged  in,  are  necessary  to  happiness.  And  we 
cannot  allow  that  such  a  constitutional  change  in  our 
intellectual  structure  will  take  place,  that  the  present  laws 
and  tendencies  of  the  mind  will  all  be  inoperative  in  the 
world  to  come.  It  is  conceded  and  expected,  that  the 
amazing  works  of  infinite  power  —  the  universe  with  its 
gorgeous  furniture  —  its  systems  and  worlds,  as  viewed  with 
the  rapid  glance  of  the  mind  with  its  enlarged  capacities,  will 
be  productive  of  ineffable  delight.  And  if  the  visible  glories 
with  which  Deity  has  garnished  the  residence  of  his  saints, 
are  designed  to  increase  their  pleasure,  and  to  heighten  their 
rapture ;  have  we  not  still  stronger  ground  to  believe  that 
the  friendships  and  associations  of  earth,  which  are  so  inti- 
mately interwoven  with  our  thoughts  and  feelings,  and  which 
enter  into  the  very  texture  and  frame-work  of  our  nature, 
will  be  allowed  to  subserve  a  yet  higher  office  in  the  promo- 
tion of  our  happiness  in  the  celestial  home. 

That  this  supposition  is  not  visionary,  but  rational ;  appears 
from  the  fact,  that  human  beings  are  eminently  social ;  and 
next  to  communion  with  God,  there  is  no  other  source  from 
which  we  derive  so  much  elevated  enjoyment,  as  from  the 
society  of  kindred  minds.  And  the  more  intimately  we  are 
united  with  each  other,  the  richer  and  holier  is  the  pleasure 
which  we  experience.  And  instead  of  being  sinful,  this  bond 
of  union  when  sanctified,  becomes  an  element  of  religion. 
The  love  which  we  bear  to  each   other,  is  the  basis  of  all 


FUTUKE    RECOGNITION.  333 

social  happiness !  Supreme  love  to  God  is  the  first  and 
greatest  duty  of  man,  and  the  legitimate  offspring  of  this 
supreme  affection  for  the  Lord,  is  love  to  our  fellow-creatures. 
We  are  required  to  love  our  neighbor  as  ourselves.  And  if 
that  love  which  we  cherish  for  each  other,  and  which  forms  a 
part  of  our  nature,  is  sanctified  and  elevated  into  vital  union 
with  that  love  which  we  have  for  God,  it  is  manifest  that  the 
one  cannot  perish  any  more  than  the  other.  It  forms  a  part 
of  the  Christian's  being,  just  as  certainly,  as  love  to  the  Su- 
preme Being  forms  the  bond  of  union  between  God  and  his 
saints.  And  passing  into  eternity  with  this  imperishable 
principle  of  love  for  each  other,  could  we  be  happy  without 
knowing  those  whom  we  do  love  ?  Or  rather,  could  we  love 
those  whom  we  do  not  know?  Is  not  a  knowledge  of  the 
character  of  God,  anterior  to  the  existence  of  the  love  which 
we  cherish  for  Him  ?  Can  we  love  anything  without  an 
acquaintance  with  its  properties  or  appearance  ?  We  admire 
the  landscape  only  after  we  have  looked  out  upon  the  beauti- 
ful objects  w'ith  which  it  is  diversified ;  or  when  its  character 
has  been  brought  to  our  perceptions  through  some  other 
agency  than  the  eye.  And  upon  this  same  basis  do  we  place 
our  argument,  for  the  truth  of  the  doctrine  under  discussion. 
There  could  be  no  love  for  each  other  in  heaven,  if  there  be 
no  recognition  of  friends  there.  But  as  we  are  assured  by 
the  oracles  of  truth,  that  love  is  the  great  law^  of  heaven  and 
the  fountain  from  which  the  chief  blessings  of  the  redeemed 
flow ;  we  deem  the  argument  conclusive,  that  we  shall  know 
each  other  in  our  future  home.     It  can  be  readily  seen,  that 


334  FUTURE   RECOGNITION. 

without  the  admission  of  this  doctrine  we  are  driven  to  the 
only  ahernative ;  the  belief  that  our  nature  will  be  essentially 
different  then,  from  what  it  is  now.  But  what  ground  have 
we  to  warrant  such  a  conclusion  ?  For  while  the  Scriptures 
teach  us  that  we  shall  carry  nothing  sinful  into  the  habitation 
of  the  blest,  "for  nothing  that  defileth  can  enter  there,"  they 
leave  us  to  infer,  that  our  humanity  with  its  sanctified  affec- 
tions and  all  its  essential  properties,  shall  ascend  into  the 
presence  of  Jehovah. 

We  might  also  contend  for  the  truth  of  this  doctrine  on 
the  ground  that  it  is  not  opposed  to  reason.  It  may,  indeed, 
be  affirmed  with  truth,  that  unaided  reason  could  not,  from 
its  deductions,  positively  assure  us  that  we  shall  know  each 
other  in  the  future  world ;  but  then  the  doctrine  does  not 
conflict  with  any  of  its  conclusions.  On  the  contrary,  it  is 
reasonable  to  infer,  from  the  known  character  of  God  and 
His  dealings  with  His  creatures,  that  He  will  deprive  them 
of  nothing  which  is  conducive  to  their  happiness,  and  not 
hurtful  to  their  souls.  And  it  is  not  possible  that  those  who 
hope  for  heaven  should  be  indifferent  about  this  matter,  or 
feel  otherwise  than  that  to  know  those  we  cherish  in  this  life 
would  be  a  source  of  inconceivable  bliss.  With  what  emo- 
tions do  we  look  forward  to  those  intervievv-s  which  we  ex- 
pect to  have  with  our  departed  when  we  reach  our  long- 
sought  rest !  Behold  that  mother  lingering  about  those  little 
graves  ;  does  not  her  soul  glow  and  swell  with  a  holy  rapture 
as  she  looks  forward  to  the  period  when  she  shall  be  ushered 
into  the  sanctities  of  heaven,  and    recognize   and  embrace 


FUTUllE    RECOGNITION.  335 

those  to  whom  she  gave  existence  ?  And  would  it  not  be  a 
painful  reflection  were  the  conviction  forced  upon  the  mind 
of  the  child,  who  lost  a  beloved  parent  at  a  period  too  early 
in  its  history  to  have  any  recollection  of  form  or  feature,  that 
it  could  never  know  that  parent  in  heaven  ?  Is  it  not  much 
more  in  conformity  with  the  dictates  of  reason,  and  in 
harmony  with  our  feelings,  to  believe  that  we  shall  know  our 
sainted  friends  amid  the  multitude  of  glorified  spirits  ? 

Another  consideration  worthy  of  notice  is,  that  the  inspired 
writers  represent  heaven  under  such  emblems  as  to  render 
the  inference  of  future  recognition  perfectly  legitimate.  It  is 
called  a  kingdom  and  a  commonwealth  ;  and  the  inhabitants 
are  spoken  of  as  citizens.  "Now  are  ye  no  more  strangers 
and  foreigners,  but  fellow-citizens  with  the  saints."  As 
subjects  of  the  same  government,  and  participating  in  all  the 
immunities  and  honors  of  a  state,  it  would  seem  strange  that 
they  should  not  know  each  other.  Heaven  is,  moreover, 
represented  under  the  emblem  of  a  family.  God,  the  father, 
is  at  the  head  of  this  family.  Speaking  of  those  who  have 
entered  into  reconciliation  with  heaven,  the  Apostle  says : 
"  For  ye  have  not  received  the  spirit  of  bondage  again  to  fear  j 
but  ye  have  received  the  spirit  of  adoption,  whereby  we  cry, 
Abba,  Father.  The  Spirit  itself  beareth  witness  with  our 
spirit  that  we  are  the  children  of  God ;  and  if  children,  then 
heirs  ;  heirs  of  God,  and  joint  heirs  with  Jesus  Christ ;  if  so 
be  that  we  sufler  with  hira,  that  we  may  also  be  glorified 
together."  And  as  this  family  is  composed  of  all  the  sancti- 
fied in  heaven  and  on  earth,  we  could  not  reject  the  doctrine 


330  FUTURE    RECOGNITION. 

of  recognition  without  doing  violence  to  all  conceptions  of, 
and  associations  with,  the  family  relation.  Members  of  the 
same  family  must  surely  know  each  other. 

Another  proof  of  this  doctrine  may  be  drawn  from  the 
general  sentiments  of  mankind.  So  far  as  it  is  possible  to 
ascertain  the  views  of  the  ancients  on  this  subject,  they  all 
harmonize  on  this  point.  It  is  universally  admitted  to  be 
true  by  all  those  writers  who  have  recorded  their  opinions. 
Grecian  and  Roman  poets,  who  described  the  invisible  or 
spirit  world,  uniformly  represent  their  heroes  and  other 
characters  as  recognizing  each  other  when  they  met.  And 
Milton  and  Shakspeare  give  utterance  to  similar  sentiments. 
It  is,  therefore,  just  to  infer  that  a  doctrine  which  is  so  gener- 
ally received  must  be  true.  And  it  is  only  upon  the  best 
established  evidence  to  the  contrary  that  we  should  be  willing 
to  reject  a  sentiment,  the  truthfulness  of  which  has  been  held 
by  so  many  different  nations  for  thousands  of  years.  For  it 
is  not  probable  that  a  merciful  God  would  allow  so  many 
generations,  differing  so  widely  on  many  other  subjects,  and 
yet  agreeing  on  this,  to  be  in  error  for  so  long  a  period. 
And  could  we  now  gather  the  views  of  the  thoughtful  and 
intelligent  men  of  the  present  generation,  they  would,  doubt- 
less, be  in  harmony  with  the  belief  of  the  ancients.  The 
most  eminent  theologians,  in  the  different  periods  of  the 
church's  history,  have  left  us  their  testimony  in  favor  of 
future  recognition.  These  opinions  might  easily  be  advanced 
here  ;  but  as  there  is  so  little,  if  any,  difference  in  the 
manner  in  which  they  have  expressed  themselves,  it  may  be 


FUTURE   RECOGNITION.  337 

sufficient  to  state  that  Luther,  Calvm,  Melancthon,  and  so 
fcir  as  we  know,  all  the  Reformers  fully  believed  that  we  shall 
know  each  other  in  heaven. 

But  it  is  possible  to  plant  this  doctrine  upon  a  still  firmer 
basis,  by  a  direct  appeal  to  Scripture.  In  the  parable  of  the 
rich  man  and  Lazarus,  we  have  the  sanction  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  to  this  doctrine.  That  thrilling  history,  or  parable,  was 
drawn  by  one  to  whom  all  things  were  known,  and  who 
never  spoke  at  random.  The  spiritual  world  with  all  its 
mysteries  was  laid  open  to  Him,  and  He  was  cognizant  of 
every  thing  which  transpired  in  the  invisible  state,  so  that  He 
could  speak  with  accuracy  on  any  subject  which  He  might 
wish  to  unfold  to  the  minds  of  his  hearers.  We  are  distinctly 
told  that  there  was  a  recognition  of  Abraham  and  Lazarus 
on  the  part  of  the  rich  man.  "  He  lifted  up  his  eyes,  being 
in  torment,  and  saw  Abraham  afar  off  and  Lazarus  in  his 
bosom."  In  whatever  light  we  regard  that  portion  of  scrip- 
ture, it  manifestly  carries  with  it  the  Divine  sanction  of  this 
doctrine.  And  not  only  did  he  know  Lazarus,  who  once 
lay  neglected  at  his  gate,  but  he  begs  that  one  of  the  dead 
might  be  sent  to  w^arn  his  five  brethren,  that  they  might  not 
come  to  the  same  place  of  torment ;  and  if  the  departed  did 
not  know  each  other,  why  should  he  have  dreaded  the 
presence  of  his  brethren,  who  might  reproach  him  for  his 
impiety  and  his  influence  upon  them,  for  it  cannot  be  sup- 
posed that  in  hell  there  is  any  natural  atTection.  And  if  it 
was  possible  for  the  rich  man  to  know  Lazarus  and  Abraham, 
must  it  not  be  so  with  all.  The  Saviour,  when  he  speaks  to 
29 


338  FUTURE    RECOGNITION. 

the  Jews  of  the  consequences  of  their  rejection  of  Him  as 
their  Messiah,  says,  "  Ye  shall  see  Abraham  and  all  the 
prophets  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  you  yourselves  shut  out." 
There  are  also  certain  statements  in  the  gospel  of  John,  which 
look  to  this  subject.  In  those  last  few  chapters,  which  01s- 
hausen  calls  the  Holy  of  Holies,  in  the  gospel  history,  we  find 
the  Redeemer  unfolding  the  deeper  mysteries  of  religion,  and 
lifting  the  veil  which  hides  the  invisible  world,  so  as  to  afford 
believers  glimpses  of  their  exalted  and  glorified  state.  He 
speaks  particularly  and  affectionately  of  the  relation  that  He 
sustains  to  the  Father,  and  the  Father  to  Him,  and  the  union 
which  exists  betv»-een  himself  and  his  disciples.  "  Yet  a  little 
while  and  the  world  seeth  me  no  more  ;  but  ye  shall  see  me, 
because  I  live  ye  shall  live  also."  "  Father,  I  Avill  that  those 
whom  thou  hast  given  me  may  be  with  me,  that  where  I  am 
they  may  be  also  and  behold  my  glory."  In  these  utterances 
of  our  Lord,  He  encourages  the  belief  that  the  most  intimate 
social  relations  wnll  exist  between  Him  and  His  saints.  And 
when  He  appeared  to  His  disciples  immediately  after  His 
resurrection  from  the  dead,  they  knew  him.  And  there  can 
be  no  doubt  as  to  the  views  of  the  apostles  on  this  subject. 
Paul  writing  to  the  Thessalonians,  says,  "  What  is  our  hope, 
our  joy,  or  crown  of  rejoicing?  Are  not  even  ye  in  the 
presence  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  at  his  corning  ?  For  ye  are 
our  glory  and  joy."  The  apostle,  here,  evidently  means  that 
he  shall  know  those  at  the  judgment  of  Christ,  who  were 
converted  to  Christianity  through  his  instrumentality.  And 
not  only  would  he  know  them  in  the  last  great  day,  but  he 


FUTURE   RECOGNITION.  839 

would  rejoice  over  them,  as  persons  saved  from  the  guilt  and 
condemnation  of  sin  through  his  labors. 

The  apostle  John,  in  the  Apocalypse,  holds  out  the  same 
idea.  In  his  visions  are  represented  those  who  had  passed 
through  fiery  persecutions  and  the  tribulations  of  martyrdom, 
and  stood  before  the  throne  of  God.  "  After  this  I  beheUl, 
and  lo!  a  great  multitude  which  no  man  could  number,  of  all 
nations,  and  kindreds,  and  people,  and  tongues,  stood  before 
the  throne  and  before  the  Lamb,  clothed  with  white  robes  and 
palms  in  their  hands  ;  And  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  saying, 
Salvation  to  our  God  which  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto 
the  Lamb.  And  all  the  angels  stood  round  about  the  throne, 
and  about  the  elders,  and  the  four  beasts,  and  fell  before  the 
throne  on  their  faces,  and  worshipped  God,  Saying,  Amen: 
Blessing,  and  glory,  and  honor,  and  wisdom,  and  thanks- 
giving, and  power,  and  might,  be  unto  our  God  forever  and 
ever.     Amen." 

Here  the  apostle  saw  those  multitudes  who  had  reached,  or 
should  reach,  heaven ;  and  still  bearing  those  peculiarities 
which  enabled  him  to  distinguish  between  the  different  nations 
who  were  represented  before  the  throne  of  God.  And  not  only 
is  that  distinction  retained  by  the  kindreds  and  tongues,  but 
their  appearance  must  have  been  different  from  that  of  the 
angels,  or  else  he  could  not  have  spoken  of  the  latter  as  a 
distinct  class.  Now  if  all  personal  and  national  identity  be 
destroyed,  and  all  those  marks  obliterated  whereby  we  know 
one  person  and  one  nation  from  another  on  earth,  the 
moment  the  redeemed  enter  their  future  home,  how  could 


340  FUTURE    RECOGNITION. 

the  apostle  have  known  that  that  multitude  was  composed  of 
the  various  kindreds  and  tongues  of  earth?  And  if  the 
glorified  saints  do  not  lose  their  national  identity,  is  not  the 
inference  a  legitimate  one,  that  they  will  also  retain  their 
personal  identity?  And  would  not  the  loss  of  those  various 
aspects  of  human  form  and  appearance  which  are  peculiar  to 
individuals  on  earth,  and  the  throwing  the  society  of  heaven 
into  one  uniform  mass,  divest  that  abode  of  that  order  and 
beauty  which  the  scriptures  ascribe  to  the  heavenly  world  ? 
It  would  do  violence  to  all  our  feelings  and  hopes,  while  the 
rejection  of  the  doctrine  would  strip  our  future  home  of  some 
of  its  brightest  attractions,  and  fill  us  with  regrets  at  least  all 
through  our  earthly  pilgrimage. 

But  it  appears,  also,  from  some  intimations  of  Scripture, 
that  angels  know  each  other.  Gabriel,  when  assigning  a 
reason  for  the  delay  occasioned  on  his  mission  to  the  prophet, 
ascribes  it  to  certain  hindrances  which  he  experienced  on  his 
way.  "  Fear  not,  Daniel,"  he  says,  "  for  from  the  first  day 
thou  didst  set  thyself  to  understand  and  to  chasten  thyself 
before  God,  thy  w^ords  were  heard,  and  I  am  come  for  thy 
words.  But  the  prince  of  the  kingdom  of  Persia  withstood 
me  one  and  twenty  days ;  but  lo !  Michael,  one  of  the  chief 
princes,  came  to  help  me."  From  this  it  would  appear  that 
angels  know  each  other ;  and  if  so,  may  we  not  safely  con- 
clude that  a  like  privilege  awaits  the  children  of  God  ? 

But  we  have  still  more  positive  grounds  upon  which  to 
base  our  argument.  We  are  assured  by  the  Evangelist  who 
describes  the  transfiguration  of  Christ  on  Mount  Herraon, 


FUTURE   RECOGNITION.  341 

"  that  Moses  and  Elias  were  present,  and  communed  with 
Jesus  concerning  the  work  of  redemption  whicli  was 
approaching  its  completion."  And  while  the  disciples  were 
overwhelmed  with  the  resplendent  glory  which  shone  upon 
that  Mount,  Peter  exclaimed,  "  Lord,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be 
here.  Let  us  build  three  tabernacles ;  one  for  thee,  one  for 
Moses,  and  one  for  Elias."  From  this  language  it  appears 
that  the  disciples  knew  Moses  and  Elias,  although  they  had 
never  seen  them  on  earth.  And  does  not  the  fact  afford 
indubitable  proof  that  saints  shall  know  each  other  intuitively.'' 
The  presumption  is  certainly  very  strong,  that  if  Peter,  James, 
and  John,  knew  the  great  lawgiver  of  the  Jews,  and  him  who 
stood  at  the  head  of  the  prophetic  school,  though  they  had 
lived  some  thousand  years  before,  and  now  appeared  in  their 
glorified  natures,  that  the  saints  will  immediately  recognize 
each  other  upon  their  entrance  into  heaven.  We  might 
adduce  additional  inferential  proof  from  Scripture  in  support 
of  future  recognition,  but  perhaps  none  which  bears  more 
pointedly  upon  the  doctrine ;  and  we  think  that  this  is 
amply  sufficient  to  establish  the  fact,  if  we  do  not  demand 
demonstrative  proof  where  moral  certainty  is  all  that  ought 
to  be  expected. 

But  there  is  yet  another  source  from  which  we  may  obtain 
some  light  on  this  subject.  I  mean  the  declarations  of 
departing  souls.  Many  incidents  might  be  adduced,  which 
ought  to  confirm  us  in  the  belief  that  we  shall  know  each 
other  in  the  spirit- world.  It  may  be  alleged,  however,  that 
the  mind  is  in  a  wild  and  delirious  state  for  hours  previous, 
29* 


342  FUTURE    RECOGNITION. 

as  well  as  during  the  dissolution  of  soul  and  body;  and  that 
those  forms  which  the  dying  profess  to  see  are  nothing  more 
than  images  of  beauty,  which  are  the  offspring  of  an  excited 
imagination,  and  therefore  prove  nothing;  But  while  we  are 
prepared  to  admit  the  force  of  this  assertion  in  some  instances, 
it  would  be  unjust  to  ascribe  all  such  manifestations  or  visions 
of  the  departing  to  the  same  cause.  Where  there  is  no 
undue  excitement  of  the  brain,  and  no  extraordinary  nervous 
sensibility,  but  where  the  conversation  and  appearance  of  the 
individual  are  collected  and  cool,  and  where  to  the  very  last 
moment  all  the  indications  assure  us  that  reason  is  neither 
clouded  nor  driven  from  its  throne,  we  are  bound  to  exercise 
some  confidence  in  the  truth  of  their  dying  declarations. 
Take,  for  example,  the  martyr  Stephen.  He  was  in  perfect 
health,  and,  therefore,  free  from  the  exhilarating  influence  of 
disease  or  medicine  ;  "  but  he,  being  filled  with  the  Holy 
Ghost,  looked  steadfastly  into  heaven,  and  saw  the  glory  of 
God,  and  Jesus  standing  at  the  right  hand  of  God."  He 
could  not  have  been  mistaken  about  what  he  saw,  for  he  was 
speaking  under  the  influence  of  inspiration,  and,  therefore, 
could  not  err.  Beside  this  case  from  Scripture  history,  we 
mio-ht  adduce  others  where  the  dying  spoke  of  the  presence 
of  angels  and  sainted  friends.  I  have  heard  with  my  own 
ears  many  glorious  declarations  from  dying  Christians  of 
what  they  felt  and  saw.  A  beloved  sister,  when  passing  into 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  commenced  uttering  what 
she  felt,  and  describing  what  she  saw,  until  the  glory  of  the 
invisible  world  seemed  so  fully  present  to  her  soul,  that  she  was 


FUTURE   RECOGNITION.  343 

overwhelniL'd  and  lost  in  wonder,  and  said,  "  0  !  I  cannot 
tell  you  all ;  but  you  will  see  it !"  and  as  the  words  "  beauti- 
ful, beautiful,"  trembled  on  her  lips,  she  expired.  Another 
whom  I  attended  in  his  last  hours,  but  who  was  a  wicked 
man,  carried  on  a  rapid  and  protracted  conversation  with 
what  seemed  to  be  evil  spirits,  until  suddenly  stopping,  he 
said  distinctly,"  We  will  now  adjourn  until  one  o'clock,  and 
then  we  will  rally  all  our  forces  against  the  great  throne  ;" 
and  precisely  at  the  designated  hour  he  breathed  his  last. 

But  a  highly  interesting  case  is  mentioned  by  a  gentleman 
in  one  of  our  religious  papers,  which  is  yet  more  to  the 
point.  "A  little  girl,"  he  writes,  "in  a  family  of  my 
acquaintance,  a  lovely  and  precious  child,  lost  her  mother  at 
an  age  too  early  to  fix  the  loved  features  in  her  remembrance. 
She  was  as  frail  as  beautiful ;  and  as  the  bud  of  her  heart 
unfolded,  it  seemed  as  if,  won  by  that  mother's  prayers,  to 
turn  instinctively  heavenward.  She  was  the  idol  of  the 
family  ;  but  she  faded  away  early.  She  would  lie  upon  the 
lap  of  the  friend  who  bestowed  a  mother's  care  upon  her, 
and  winding  one  wasted  arm  about  her  neck,  would  say, 
'Now  tell  me  about  my  mamma.'  And  when  the  oft- 
repeated  tale  was  told,  she  would  say  softly,  '  Take  me  into 
the  parlor,  I  want  to  see  my  mamma.'  The  request  was 
never  refused,  and  the  affectionate  child  would  lie  for  hours 
contentedly  gazing  on  her  mother's  portrait.     But  — 

"Pale  and  wan  she  grew,  and  weakly, 
Beai-ing  all  her  pains  so  meekly, 
That  to  them  she  still  grew  dearer, 
As  the  trial-hour  drew  nearer." 


344  FUTURE    RECOGNITION. 

"That  hour  came  at  last,  and  the  weeping  friends  assembled 
to  see  the  little  child  die.  The  dew  of  death  was  already  on 
the  flower  as  its  life's  sun  was  going  down.  The  little  chest 
heaved  spasmodically.  '  Do  you  know  me,  darling  ? ' 
sobbed  the  voice  that  was  dearest ;  but  it  awoke  no  answer. 
All  at  once  a  brightness,  as  if  from  the  upper  world,  burst 
over  the  child's  colorless  features.  The  eyelids  flashed 
open,  the  lips  parted,  the  wan,  cuddling  hands  flew  in  the 
little  one's  last  impulsive  effort,  as  she  looked  piercingly  into 
the  far-above.  'Mother!'  she  cried  with  surprise  and  tran- 
sport, and  past  with  that  breath  to  her  mother's  bosom." 
Who  that  has  witnessed  such  instances  can,  for  a  moment, 
doubt  the  doctrine  of  future  recognition. 

Other  instances  might  be  cited,  but  I  will  rest  this  doctrine 
upon  the  testimony  of  each  one's  consciousness.  Out  of  the 
holy  depths  of  our  nature  we  may  hear  a  voice  say  to  us, 
^^we  shall  know  each  other  in  heaven."  God  has  given 
certain  voices  to  our  spiritual  being ;  and  whenever  these  are 
heard  in  favor  of  any  subject  which  is  clothed  with  an  air  of 
mystery  or  obscurity,  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  the 
utterances  are  true.  The  yearnings  of  our  nature,  and  the 
perfection  of  our  happiness,  assuredly  require  a  recognition 
of  those  whom  we  loved  on  earth,  and  in  whom  were  our 
richest  springs  of  earthly  joy.  Blessed  be  God  that  we  have 
ground  to  believe  and  reason  to  hope  that  we  shall  see  oui 
sainted  friends,  and  know  them  "even  as  we  are  known." 
And  what  an  influence  should  this  doctrine  exert  upon  the 
mind  of  the  Christian?     It  should  inspire  him  with  a  holy 


FUTURE    RECOGNITION.  345 

watchfulness  over  his  own  heart,  that  he  may  not  come  short 
of  that  "  rest  which  remaineth  to  the  people  of  God." 

It  is  a  sore  trial  to  endure  a  separation  for  a  few  years  ;  but 
who  could  endure  the  thought  of  being  eternally  exiled  from 
their  home  in  heaven  ?  The  prospect  of  reunion  with  his 
beloved,  should  constrain  him  to  "  lay  aside  every  weight  and 
the  sin  which  doth  so  easily  beset  him,  and  to  run  with  patience 
and  diligence  the  race  that  is  set  before  him."  And  0  !  what 
a  motive  he  has  to  labor  for  the  salvation  of  his  children, 
brothers,  sisters,  wife,  or  other  dear  friends  with  whom  he 
would  walk  by  the  river  of  life.  Christian  parent,  have  you 
ever  felt  that  your  child  might  be  losf)  Do  you  see  how  the 
temptations  are  multiplying  around  it,  and  that  there  is  a 
growing  inclination  to  give  way  to  their  urgency .''  Do  you 
see  the  silken  threads  of  pride,  and  the  golden  cords  of  plea- 
sure, binding  its  immortal  spirit  to  the  dust?  0!  fortify  its 
heart  against  those  temptations  ;  hasten  to  cut  those  cords 
before  they  become  powerful  as  the  folds  of  the  monster. 
Turn  the  eyes  of  those  you  love,  away  from  these  fading 
glories,  to  that  bright  inheritance  at  God's  right  hand.  Turn 
their  aspirations  to  a  crown  of  glory  and  a  garland  of  life,  and 
teach  them  that  the  highest  honor  within  reach  of  mortals,  is  to 
be  a  son  or  a  daughter  of  the  Lord  Almighty.  Beg  them  to 
become  reconciled  to  God  now.  Speak  to  them  of  the  horrors 
of  a  final  separation,  and  the  joys  of  eternal  union.  And 
carry  with  you  to  the  closet  the  weight  of  their  souls'  salvation, 
that  your  utterances  and  cries  may  rise  bathed  with  atoning 
blood  to  the  ears  of  the  eternal  God,  that  the  arm  of  Jehovah 


346  ~      FUTURE    RECOGNITION. 

may  awake  to  their  deliverance  from  sin.  Or  if  all  are 
adopted  into  God's  family,  or  have  already  gone  to  rest,  suffer 
the  delightful  assurance  that  you  shall  know  and  love  them 
in  heaven,  to  reconcile  you  to  this  temporary  separation  which 
death  induces.  But  if  unconverted  and  without  hope,  should 
not  this  prospect  at  once  lead  you  to  the  Saviour's  feet,  that 
you  may  be  washed  and  sanctified  ?  O  !  what  motives  are 
addressed  to  you  from  yonder  world,  if  you  are  impenitent! 
Perhaps  a  beloved  child  bends  from  these  seats  of  glory  with 
beseeching  looks,  and  would  constrain  you  to  turn  to  God ! 
A  dear  departed  mother  may  yearn  over  you  with  all  her 
maternal  affection!  A  father,  a  husband,  a  wife,  a  brother, 
or  sister,  or  friend  —  ay,  perhaps  all  these,  are  calling  down 
to  you,  now,  to  close  in  with  the  overtures  of  mercy.  But  I 
will  not  attempt  to  urge  their  pleas ;  I  will  pray  God  that  He 
may  plead  his  own  cause  and  theirs  with  you.  And  0 !  that 
they  may  descend  in  the  persuasive  influences  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  carry  your  affections  to  the  skies.  And  then  with 
the  Christian  you  can  look  forward  with  joy  to  that  hour 
when  you  shall  join  the  ransomed  host  above.  And  who  can 
picture  that  rapture  which  will  thrill  the  bosoms  of  the  glori- 
fied throng,  as  they  are  joined  in  everlasting  bonds  of  love. 
To  those  hills  of  life  we  often  look,  and  over  those  plains  of 
light  and  glory  does  the  eye  of  our  faith  fondly  wander,  for 
there  are  those  whom  a  mysterious  but  wise  Providence  has 
removed  from  our  fold.  And  to  those  heights  of  glory  where 
the  redeemed  now  rejoice  does  our  hope  carry  us,  and  there 
do  we  expect  one  day  to  hear  all  the  voices  which  once 


FUTURE   RECOGNITION.  347 

charmed  us  on  earth,  mingling  with  cur's  in  the  great  anthem 
of  redemption  that  shall  rise  and  swell  and  roll  in  lofty  gran- 
deur around  the  throne  of  Jehovah  forever  and  ever. 

"  I  count  the  hope  no  day-dream  of  the  mind, 
No  vision  fair  of  transitory  hue  ; 
The  souls  of  those  whom  once  on  earth  we  knew, 
And  loved,  and  walked  with  in  communion  kind, 
Departed  hence,  again  in  heaven  to  find. 
Such  hope  to  Nature's  sympathies  is  true ; 
And  such  we  deem,  the  Holy  Word  to  view 
Unfolds  ;  an  antidote  for  grief  designed  ; 
One  drop  from  comfort's  well. 
Nor  shall  we  find 

More  joy  from  aught  in  that  celestial  seat, 
Save  from  God's  presence,  than  again  to  greet 
Each  other's  spirits,  there  to  dwell  combined 
In  brotherhood  of  love." 


CHAPTER  SEVENTEENTH. 

THE  SYMPATHY  OP  JESUS  WITH  AFFLICTED  AND 
BEREAVED  SOULS. 


"  Like  the  sweet  melody  ■which  faintly  lingers 
Upon  the  wind-harp's  strings  at  close  of  day, 
"When  gently  touch'd  by  evening's  dewy  fingers, 
It  breathes  a  low  and  melancholy  lay  ; 
So  the  calm  voice  of  sympathy  me  seemeth  ; 
And  while  its  magic  spell  is  round  me  cast, 
My  spirit  in  its  cloister'd  silence  dreameth, 
And  vaguely  blends  the  future  with  the  past." 


Humanity  may  justly  boast  of  its  sympathy  as  an  excellent 
grace  and  a  priceless  jewel.  It  is  that  fountain  in  our  nature 
whose  streams  gladden,  refresh,  and  beautify  life.  Cheerless, 
indeed,  would  be  our  existence,  were  we  doomed  to  spend 
it  among  beings  who  had  no  fellow-feeling  for  us ;  for  it  is 
the  blending  of  hearts  and  the  mingling  of  spirits,  that  create 
and  sustain  social  happiness.  It  is  even  painful,  occasionally, 
to  meet  with  one  whose  sympathies  are  chilled  by  a  heartless 
selfishness — a  man  who  feels  not,  and  cares  not  for  his  com- 
panions in  the  race  of  life.  For  such  an  one  moves  within 
the  narrow  circle  which  self-love  forms,  and  never  passes 
beyond  that  circumscribed  sphere  to  drop  a  tear  upon  some 
desolate  hearth,  or  to  utter  a  word  of  hope  to  a  desponding 

(348) 


SYMPATHY   OF   JESUS,    ETC.  349 

or  heart-broken  fellow  creature.  The  sympathies  of  others 
may  distil,  like  gently  descending  dews,  upon  spirits  made 
weary ;  and  weep  with  those  that  weep,  and  rejoice  with 
those  who  rejoice;  but  he  who  remains  unaffected,  like  a 
mountain  of  ice,  chills  the  atmosphere  around  him.  He 
labors  and  traffics,  and  schemes  and  accumulates  ;  but  only 
for  himself.  He  is  an  object  of  pity,  because  destitute  of 
those  sensibilities  and  generous  impulses  which  belong  to  our 
nature,  and  he  is  only  a  man  in  the  outward  form.  We 
regard  him  with  the  same  feelings  with  which  we  look  upon 
a  tree  scathed  and  blighted  by  the  lightnings  of  heaven, 
without  leaves  or  fruit,  and  even  incapable  of  casting  a 
refreshing  shadow.  We  all  need  sympathy,  and  should, 
therefore,  bestow  it  upon  others.  And  who  has  not  felt  its 
strange  power  to  lighten  the  burdens  of  life,  and  to  extract 
the  sting  from  disease,  and  the  bitterness  from  sorrow.  The 
help  of  man  may  be  vain  ;  but  the  sympathy  of  friends  is 
precious.  You  behold  a  fellow-traveler  oppressed  with  a 
load,  in  his  estimation  too  heavy  to  be  borne,  and  he  sinks 
exhausted  and  faint  to  the  earth  ;  but  a  word  of  encourage- 
ment from  you  will  impart  new  energy  to  the  weary  pilgrim, 
and  even  a  look  may  inspire  him  with  fortitude  to  toil  on  in 
hope.  And  this  may  be  done  without  subjecting  yourself  to 
any  inconvenience  ;  certainly  without  loss,  and  always  with 
great  gain,  forasmuch  as  every  act  of  kindness  exerts  a  recip- 
rocal force  upon  the  agent,  and  leaves  its  heavenly  impress 
upon  him,  while  it  adds  a  fresh  gem  to  his  character.  And 
the  consciousness  of  having  dispelled  gloom,  or  diminished 
30 


850  SYMPATHY   OF   JESUS 

the  woes  which  were  brooding  over  the  spirit  of  a  fellow 
being,  is  a  rich  compensation  to  those  who  delight  in  doing 
good.  To  administer  comfort  to  the  children  of  sorrow,  and 
to  utter  bright  words  into  the  ears  of  mourners,  is  like  open- 
ing a  crevice  and  letting  sun-light  into  the  gloomy  dungeon 
where  prisoners  of  misfortune  are  pining  away.  The  prison- 
ers of  Providence  are  often  in  darkness ;  their  faith  is  feeble, 
and  they  need  to  be  assured  that  when  all  within  is  dark,  the 
Sun  of  righteousness  still  shines,  and  that  they  need  but  look, 
and  they  will  behold  the  healing  beams  streaming  through 
their  clouds  of  calamity ;  and  that  although  they  despair 
because  of  the  weakness  of  their  confidence  in  the  Divine 
promises,  they  will  gather  strength  from  the  assurance  that 
Jesus  is  an  Almighty  Saviour,  that  when  they  are  weak. 
He  is  strong,  and  that,  therefore,  the  foundation  of  their  hopes 
rem.ains  unshaken  by  that  storm  which  has  agitated  and  over- 
whelmed their  souls.  Those  who  in  seasons  of  trial  have 
shared  in  the  sympathies  of  others,  know  how  precious  it  is 
to  have  the  bleeding  heart  bound  up  by  gentle  hands,  and 
the  anguished  bosom  soothed  by  those  who  know  from  expe- 
rience what  it  is  to  pass  through  the  deep  waters  of  affliction. 
The  sympathy  of  such,  is  like  oil  to  a  painful  wound. 

"  If  there  be  one  that  o'er  thy  dead, 
Hath  in  thy  grief  borne  part ; 
And  Avatch'd  through  sickness  by  thy  bed, 
^  Call  this  a  kindred  heart." 

But  after  all  has  been  done  for  us  which  sympathising 
friends  are  capable  of  accomplishing,  they  may  still  leave  the 


WITH  BEREAVED  SOULS.  351 

wound  iinmollified  and  the  heart  unhealed  ;  for  although  they 
may  comfort,  they  cannot  effectually  heal.  And  one  design 
which  a  merciful  Father  has  in  sending  us  bereavements,  un- 
questionably, is  to  convince  us  that  we  need  a  Divine  helper. 
I  had  once  planted  a  few  vines,  and  hard  by  them  erected  a 
substantial  frame-work  upon  which  they  might  find  a  support 
in  the  storm  ;  but  they  clung  to  each  other,  and  after  rising 
a  little  distance  from  the  earth,  they  fell  to  the  ground  and 
their  growth  was  dwarfish  and  their  fruit  rotted,  and  I  said 
to  my  beloved,  Here  let  us  learn  a  lesson.  These  vines  are 
a. picture  of  ourselves.  We  foolishly  and  fondly  cling  to 
each  other,  our  affections  fasten  their  tendrils  upon  beings  as 
frail  and  destitute  of  strength  as  ourselves,  and  when  calami- 
ties befall  us,  we  sink  together  in  our  weakness  ;  whereas,  if 
we  lay  hold  upon  the  Rock  of  our  strength,  and  send  our 
affections  on  the  wings  of  ardent  prayer  and  fahh  to  the 
bosom  of  God,  they  will  twine  their  tendrils  around  the 
eternal  throne,  and  we  shall  stand  to  show  forth  His  praise, 
when  the  universe  falls.  If  we  have  erred  in  placing  too 
much  dependence  upon  an  arm  of  flesh,  God  may  have 
withered  that  arm,  that  we  might  lay  hold  upon  His.  The 
Lord  often  dries  up  the  fountains  of  earthly  comfort,  that  we 
may  fly  to  the  streams  of  living  water.  He  takes  away  friends, 
that  He  may  cause  us  to  seek  the  friendship  of  Him  "  who 
sticketh  closer  than  a  brother."  Jesus  only  is  able  to  afford 
us  grace  and  strength  to  bear  the  trials  He  appoints  for  us. 
And  blessed  be  God;  He  never  withholds  His  consolations 
from  the  sorrowful  who  seek  them ;  nor  does  He  deny  shelter 


352  SYMPATHY   OF   JESUS 

to  the  distressed  who  fly  to  His  bosom  for  refuge.  And  what 
is  still  more  important,  He  possesses  infinite  resources,  and 
is,  therefore,  amply  qualified  to  furnish  an  antidote  for  all 
distresses ;  and  where  they  cannot  be  removed,  He  overrules 
them  for  His  glory  and  our  good.  He,  at  whose  word  as  it 
rang  through  chaos,  the  universe  sprang  bright-robed  and 
glowing  into  existence,  can  call  forth  light  and  joy  in  the 
darkly  desolate  heart.  He  who  caused  the  morning  stars  to 
sing,  can  wake  up  songs  in  the  night  of  our  affliction.  For 
He  need  but  speak,  and  it  is  done ;  and  whether  we  can  or 
cannot  always  see  the  hidden  energy  which  controls  the 
tempest,  w^e  know  who  has  commanded  our  peace  when 
our  troubled  breasts  find  repose. 

The  sympathy  of  Jesus  is  one  of  the  most  pleasing 
attributes  of  His  character.  There  is  much  in  the  person  and 
life  of  our  adorable  Redeemer  which  mankind  must  always 
admire.  Indeed,  every  thing  which  pertains  to  His  human- 
ity and  Divinity  is  possessed  of  a  loftiness  and  grandeur 
which  inspires  admiration.  He  is  unlike  man  even  in  His 
human  feelings  and  actions ;  or  rather,  we  behold  in  Him 
humanity  sinless  and  godlike.  Viewed  as  an  individual  in 
contrast  with  other  distinguished  characters,  He  stands  out  in 
lonely  grandeur,  as  the  Alps  among  the  little  hills,  or  the  sun 
in  the  firmament  of  stars — massive,  spotless,  and  sublime  in 
all  His  aspects.  Like  the  towering  mountain  upon  which  the 
storms  of  centuries  have  spent  their  energies.  He  stands  un- 
shaken, and  sends  the  healthful  influences  of  immortal  life 
over  our  afflicted  world.    I  have  stood  on  the  spot  where  the 


.  WITH  BEREAVED  SOULS.  353 

gifted  orator  swayed  with  his  eloquence  the  listening  multi- 
tude as  the  leaf-burdened  branches  of  the  forest  are  swayed 
by  the  winds  of  heaven,  I  have  communed  with  many  of  the 
distinguished  living,  and  with  more  of  the  illustrious  dead, 
but  when  I  follow  Jesus  Christ  on  His  journey,  and  visit  in 
thought  the  places  where  He  taught,  and  labored,  and 
suffered,  and  died,  I  am  conscious  of  the  presence  of  an 
awe-inspiring  majesty  which  I  experience  nowhere  else.  In 
no  society,  and  in  no  place,  do  I  feel  as  I  do  in  His  presence. 
There  is  none  like  Jesus.  For  I  see  in  Him  a  wisdom  un- 
fathomable, and  a  power  illimitable ;  I  behold  in  Him  a 
beauty  more  radiant  than  that  of  the  flowery  landscape,  a 
love  broader  than  the  earth,  a  glory  more  dazzling  than  the 
glowing  heavens,  and  a  sympathy  wide  and  durable  as 
eternity.  And  while  some  of  His  attributes,  such  as  omnipo- 
tence, omniscience,  and  justice,  breathe  a  deep  solemnity 
over  my  soul  and  fill  me  with  awe.  His  sympathy  draws  as 
with  gentle  chords,  and  makes  me  bold  to  tell  Him  those 
secret  sorrows  which  I  dare  not  utter  in  the  ears  of  mortals. 
And  if  there  be  none  who  can  be  aflfected  with  the  story  of 
our  woes,  "He  can  be  touched  with  the  feelings  of  our 
infirmities,  having  been  tempted  in  all  points  like  as  we  are." 
"He  is  the  man  of  sorrows,  and  acquainted  with  grief." 
One  of  the  objects  of  His  incarnation,  doubtless,  was,  that 
He  might  become  familiar  with  all  that  human  nature  can 
endure.  And  having  himself  been  oppressed,  and  afHicted, 
and  stricken,  and  smitten,  He  is  able  to  succor  those  who  are 
tried.  Having  endured  a  hotter  furnace  than  He  allows  any 
30* 


354  SYMPATHY    OF   JESUS 

of  His  children  to  enter,  He  knows  full  well  the  degree  of 
heat  which  is  adequate  to  the  removal  of  the  dross  from  the 
gold  ;  and  beyond  that  point  His  goodness  will  not  suffer  the 
fire  to  prevail.  No  language  could  so  fitly  describe  His 
humiliation  and  destitution  as  His  own.  "Foxes  have 
holes,  and  the  birds  of  the  air  have  nests,  but  the  son  of  man 
hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head."  When  the  beasts  of  the 
forest  are  hunted  and  pursued,  they  can  fly  to  their  rocky 
dens  and  repose  in  safety ;  when  the  heavens  grow  dark 
and  the  storm  howds,  the  fowds  of  the  air  fly  to  their  little 
homes  and  are  sheltered  ;  but  0,  amazing  thought !  the  Lord 
of  the  universe,  whose  providence  throws  its  sheltering 
wings  over  all  these  creatures.  Himself  stood  as  a  rock  in 
mid-ocean,  while  all  the  storms  of  affliction  to  which  man  is 
heir,  mingled  with  the  billows  of  Divine  wrath,  were  break- 
ing over  His  innocent  head.  And  why  did  He  consent  to 
such  a  distressing  humiliation?  Why  did  He,  the  adorable 
One,  move  through  the  deep  valleys  of  earth,  and  not  choose 
its  high  places  as  the  field  of  His  labors,  and  as  the  sphere 
of  His  beneficence  ?  He  had  an  object  in  view,  and  it  was 
this  :  that  however  humble,  neglected,  and  tried  might  be  the 
lot  of  His  children.  His  sympathies  might  reach  them.  He 
descended  to  the  lowest  depth  of  suffering  that  His  people 
might  feel  assured  that  while  the  Redeemer's  sympathy 
and  love  fill  the  highest  heights  of  heaven,  they  also  extend 
their  influence  to  the  deepest  depths  of  earth.  And  now 
there  are  none  so  far  down  in  sorrow  and  distress  but  He  is 
cognizant  of  their  feelings ;    and    the  heart  which   pulsates 


WITH  BEREAVED  SOULS.  355 

upon  the  throne  of  universal  domhiion  thrills  in  sympathy 
with  their  sufferings.  Earth  has  no  vales  resounding  with 
notes  of  anguish  and  cries  of  lamentation  from  those  who 
are  threading  their  way  through  streams  of  affliction,  where 
the  voice  of  Jesus  may  not  also  be  heard,  saying,  "When 
thou  goest  through  the  waters  I  will  be  with  thee,  and 
through  the  rivers  they  shall  not  overflow  thee." 

We  may  enjoy  the  society  and  counsel  of  sympathizing 
friends ;  but  beyond  a  certain  extent  their  efforts  to  relieve 
are  powerless ;  but  the  sympathy  of  Jesus  is  joined  with  a 
power  which  reaches  the  farthest  wo,  and  relieves  in  every 
time  of  need.  In  illustration  of  this  point,  let  us  turn  for 
a  moment  to  the  history  of  our  Saviour's  life.  Behold  Hira 
one  morning  as  in  haste  He  leaves  Capernaum  with  His 
disciples.  He  presses  forward  toward  Nain  without  pausing 
a  moment  by  the  cool  brook  to  take  a  refreshing  draught,  or 
turning  into  the  grove  by  the  wayside  to  find  shelter  in  its 
grateful  shade  from  a  hot  summer's  sun.  He  is  on  an  errand 
of  mercy.  The  distress  of  a  widowed  mother  was  present 
to  His  omniscience  and  awakened  His  compassion,  and  He 
hastens  to  the  town  where  she  lived,  that  He  may  restore  her 
lost  treasure.  About  midday  he  reaches  the  city,  and  is  met 
at  the  gate  by  the  funeral  cortege.  When  He  saw  the  infirm 
and  broken  mourner  following  her  only  son  to  the  grave,  His 
sympathies  were  kindled,  and  He  said  to  her,  "  Weep  not." 
"  And  he  touched  the  bier,  and  they  that  bore  him  stood  still. 
And  He  said,  Young  man,  I  say  unto  thee,  arise.  And  he 
that  was  dead  sat  up  and  began  to  speak.    And  He  delivered 


856  SYMPATHY   OF   JESUS 

him  to  his  mother."  Here  was  an  exceedingly  touching  and 
beautiful  instance  of  His  sympathy  with  the  bereaved.  A 
lonely  widow,  who  was  deprived  of  her  only  stay  and 
support,  excited  our  Lord's  compassion,  and  He  exerts  His 
omnipotence  to  bring  her  relief.  He  recalled  life  into  that 
inanimate  form,  and  again  there  was  a  warm  heart  to  love 
her  and  to  cheer  her  solitude ;  again  there  were  hands  to 
procure  her  bread,  and  once  more  there  were  lips  to  pro- 
nounce that  rapturous  w^ord,  mother. 

A  father  comes  to  our  Lord  and  cries,  "  My  daughter  is 
even  now  dead,  but  come  and  lay  thy  hand  upon  her,  and 
she  shall  live."  Although  he  is  not  of  the  house  of  Israel, 
Christ  does  not  repel  the  suppliant,  but  accompanies  the 
ruler  to  the  chamber  of  death,  and  there  recalls  her  to  life. 
Ah,  who  can  estimate  the  preciousness  of  the  Saviour's 
sympathy  to  this  ruler  ?  As  he  was  a  man  in  authority,  he, 
doubtless,  had  other  friends  who  pitied  him,  and  who 
mingled  their  tears  with  his ;  but  the  sympathy  of  Jesus  was 
associated  with  a  power  through  which  this  man  was  again 
put  in  possession  of  his  child. 

But  the  most  affecting  incident  of  this  description  con- 
nected with  the  history  of  Jesus  is  the  exhibition  of  His 
tenderness  at  the  raising  of  Lazarus.  The  family  of  Bethany 
largely  shared  the  friendship  of  the  Saviour.  Two  sisters 
and  one  brother  composed  that  family  "  whom  Jesus  loved." 
On  one  occasion,  during  His  absence  from  the  hospitable 
house  of  these  friends,  sickness  came,  and  Lazarus  was 
prostrated  upon  a  bed  of  affliction.     With  fearful  hearts  did 


WITH  BEREAVED  SOULS.  357 

those  fond  sisters  watch  around  the  bed  of  their  beloved 
brother,  and  carefully  did  they  note  every  stage  which  the 
disease  might  assume.  Now  hope  would  illumine  their 
coimtenances,  as  his  eye  brightened  and  his  fever  slightly 
abated ;  then  again,  as  the  symptoms  became  unfavorable 
would  fear  cast  its  shadow  upon  their  brow.  O,  how 
anxiously  did  they  long  for  the  Saviour's  return.  They  had 
despatched  a  messenger  for  Him,  and  sufficient  time  had 
elapsed  for  Him  to  reach  their  abode,  but  the  Lord  has 
not  yet  come,  and  the  brother  grows  worse.  Often  did 
they  look  out  in  the  direction  from  which  they  expected  Him 
to  come,  but  there  was  no  indication  of  His  approach,  and 
again  they  returned  to  the  bedside,  weeping  in  all  the  bitter- 
ness of  their  hearts.  The  first  day  has  passed,  and  another, 
and  still  another,  and  yet  are  the  watchers  alone.  Slowly 
yet  rapidly  does  the  time  roll  on  ;  and  as  the  midnight  hour, 
which  so  often  marks  the  crisis  of  disease,  comes,  it  brings  no 
hope  ;  nay,  it  increases  their  alarm,  for  he  was  manifestly 
sinking.  Another  hour  is  passed,  and  the  struggles  of  nature 
with  disease  are  feebler ;  his  tongue  ceases  to  articulate 
responses  to  their  affectionate  inquiries,  and  his  eyes  grow 
dim,  so  that  he  can  no  longer  see  Martha  and  Mary.  Gently 
he  sinks  until  the  dawn  of  day;  and  just  when  the  orb  of 
heaven  bathed  the  hills  of  Palestine  with  his  golden  light, 
the  sun  of  Lazarus  set  in  death.  And  now  those  sisters  are 
overwhelmed  with  sorrow,  why  does  the  Master  not  even  come 
to  comfort  them  in  their  distress  ?  But  these  sisters  did  not 
bear  their  grief  alone.     Beyond  Jordan  there  was  a  heajt 


358  ~  SYMPATHY    OF   JESUS 

which  shared  their  woes,  for  Jesvis  said  to  His  disciples, 
"  Lazarus  is  dead,  let  us  go  to  him."  They  came,  but  not 
to  be  present  at  his  burial ;  neither  did  Mary  and  Martha 
know  when  the  Lord  would  come.  Their  brother  was  laid 
in  the  sepulchre,  and  they  sat  down  in  sackcloth  to  lament 
the  dead.  After  the  lapse  of  four  days  it  was  announced 
that  the  Master  had  come  ;  and  when  Mary  had  approached 
into  His  presence  she  fell  down  at  His  feet,  saying,  "  Lord,  if 
thou  hadst  been  here  my  brother  had  not  died.  When  Jesus, 
therefore,  saw  her  weeping,  and  the  Jews  also  weeping  which 
came  with  her,  He  groaned  in  spirit  and  was  troubled,  and 
said,  Where  have  ye  laid  him." 

"  Then  the  Jews  who  came 
Following  Mary  answered  through  their  tears, 

"  Lord,  come  and  see  !"     But  lo  !  the  mighty  heart 
That  in  Gethsemane  sweat  drops  of  blood, 
Taking  for  us  the  cup  that  might  not  pass ; 
The  heart  whose  breaking  cord  upon  the  cross 
Made  the  earth  tremble,  and  the  sun  afraid 
To  look  upon  his  agony  —  the  heart 
Of  a  lost  world's  Redeemer —  overflowed, 
Touched  by  a  mourner's  sorrow  !  Jesus  wept." 

W^hat  a  sublime  lesson  do  those  tears  teach  the  children 
of  sorrow!  I  have  seen  the  parched  earth,  when  it  seemed 
crying  to  the  passing  clouds  to  descend  in  refreshing  showers ; 
and  I  have  looked  out  upon  the  face  of  nature  after  those 
dark  chariots  of  heaven  had  wept  themselves  empty  upon  the 
thirsty  plain,  and  the  whole  earth  looked  up  reflecting  from 
her  tears  her  grateful  smiles  back  to  Him  who  "  prepareth  the 
rain."     And  so  have  I  seen  desolate  and  weary  souls  con- 


WITH  BEREAVED  SOULS.  359 

suming  and  wasting  away  under  the  slow  fires  of  grief,  until 
the  dews  of  a  Saviour's  sympathy  descended  upon  them  and 
clothed  them  with  the  graces  of  submission  and  resignation, 
and  in  whispers  such  as  angels  utter,  I  heard  these  comforted 
souls  breathe  the  words  of  Gethsemane  —  "Nevertheless  not 
my  will,  but  thine,  be  done." 

And  how  often  like  those  two  sisters  in  their  grief,  do 
Christians  feel  as  though  they  sorrowed  alone,  that  the  Master 
does  not  pity !  But  they  knew  not  that  the  stroke  which 
smote  Lazarus  with  death,  was  felt  by  Him  beyond  Jordan  ; 
and  so,  also,  when  the  cords  which  bind  us  to  loved  ones 
break,  their  vibrations  are  heard  in  heaven,  and  the  weight 
of  that  blow  which  prostrates  a  disciple  to  the  earth  and  sends 
anguish  to  our  bosoms,  is  also  felt  in  the  heart  of  Him  who  is 
seated  on  the  throne  of  universal  empire.  And  it  could  not 
be  otherwise,  for  the  head  must  feel  when  a  member  of  the 
body  suffers.  He  is  the  vine,  we  are  the  branches,  and  no 
affliction  can  befall  the  branch,  without  a  draught  upon  the 
sympathy  of  the  parent  stem.  This  is  what  the  apostle  means 
by  His  being  "touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities. 
And  this  is  what  we  need  in  this  suffering  world  ;  an  assu- 
rance of  His  interest  in  our  trials.  For  if  we  are  united  to 
the  Lord  Jesus  by  a  living  faith,  our  burdens  are  partly  borne 
by  Him.  As  He  once  addressed  the  multitude  who  were 
groaning  under  bodily  and  spiritual  burdens,  so  does  He  still 
invite  the  suffering  —  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and 
are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest."  Rest  from  guilt 
and  sin  ;  rest  from  all  your  grief  and  anguish.     Among  all 


360  SYMPATHY   OF   JESUS 

the  examples  recorded  in  Scripture  for  our  encouragement 
under  affliction,  there  is  not  one  that  has  not  left  its  testi- 
mony of  the  gracious  aid  and  unfailing  support  which  the 
Lord  grants  his  children  in  their  day  of  trial.  When  Job 
was  visited  with  the  most  distressing  calamities,  and  suddenly 
deprived  of  his  property,  his  children,  and  his  health,  he 
could  still  bless  God.  And  although  he  did  pass  through  a 
fiery  ordeal,  God  so  overruled  his  afflictions  that  they  issued 
in  an  increase  and  enlargement  of  temporal  and  spiritual 
blessings. 

We  have  a  beautiful  exhibition  of  the  sympathy  of  Jesus, 
in  those  charming  discourses  which  He  addressed  to  His 
disciples,  shortly  before  His  crucifixion.  When  He  saw  the 
effect  which  the  announcement  of  His  suffering  and  separa- 
tion from  them  had  produced,  He  strove  to  comfort  them, 
and  to  dispel  their  sadness  by  words  of  hope.  "  Let  not 
your  hearts  be  troubled ;  ye  believe  in  God,  believe  also  in 
me.  In  ray  father's  house  are  many  mansions ;  if  it  were  not 
so,  I  would  have  told  you.  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you." 
He  was  not  insensible  to  their  sorrows,  and,  therefore,  con- 
soles them,  and  tries  to  reconcile  them  to  a  brief  separation 
by  pointing  to  those  glorious  mansions  on  high,  where  they 
should  enjoy  His  presence  and  society  forever.  And  what 
language  of  tenderness  flowed  from  His  lips  when  He  spoke 
to  those  who  were  afflicted  to  tears  by  beholding  His  suffer- 
ings! While  under  the  painful  pressure  of  that  cross  which 
He  was  bearing  onward  to  Calvary,  He  looked  around  and 
saw  the  women  w^eeping  as  they  followed ;  and  unmindful 


WITH  BEREAVED  SOULS.  361 

of  His  own  anguish,  he  kindly  said,  "  Daughters  of  Jerusalem 
weep  not  for  me."  And  in  the  last  hour  of  His  indescribable 
and  excruciating  sufferings,  His  sympathy  for  His  mother 
was  manifested  in  those  memorable  words  addressed  to  her 
and  the  beloved  disciple  —  "  Woman,  behold  thy  son  ;  son, 
behol  I  thy  mother."  And  when  His  death  had  fallen  with 
stunning  power  upon  His  disciples  and  friends.  He  lost  no 
time  after  He  arose,  to  bring  them  words  of  comfort.  And 
first  of  all,  to  His  mother.  When  Mary  had  come  to  the  tomb 
and  found  it  empty,  she  turned  aside  and  stood  weeping 
until  addressed,  as  she  supposed,  by  the  gardener  ;  she  asked. 
Where  have  ye  laid  Him  ?  And  Jesus  said  unto  her,  "  Mary." 
That  voice  and  that  word  breathed  a  heaven  of  glory  into  her 
soul,  and  in  an  instant  she  was  at  His  feet.  "  Jesus  saith  unto 
her,  Touch  me  not,  for  I  am  not  yet  ascended  to  my  Father; 
but  go  to  my  brethren,  and  say  unto  them,  I  ascend  unto  my 
Father  and  your  Father,  and  to  my  God  and  your  God." 
And  to  the  two  disciples,  who  journeyed  to  Emmaus  to 
relieve  their  hearts  from  a  painful  oppression  and  gloom,  and 
who  were  sad  as  they  communed  with  each  other  of  the 
strange  event  which  had  blighted  their  hopes.  He  drew  near 
and  joined  in  their  conversation,  and  unfolded  to  them  the 
scriptures,  until  their  hearts  warmed  within  them  under  the 
gracious  revelations  which  He  poured  upon  their  minds  ;  and 
at  last  He  made  Himself  known,  in  the  breaking  of  bread. 
Filled  with  joy,  they  hasten  back  to  announce  the  glorious 
news  to  the  other  disciples,  and  while  they  were  yet  speaking, 
"Jesus  stood  in  their  midst,  and  said,  peace  be  with  you." 
31 


362  SYMPATHY   OF   JESUS 

Had  the  heavens  suddenly  opened  and  let  down  upon  them 
the  glory  of  the  upper  sanctuary,  they  could  not  have  been 
filled  with  greater  joy.  Jesus  was  with  them,  and  it  was 
enough.  And  ever  since  that  memorable  period,  there  has 
been  no  chamber  of  sorrow  where  His  followers  wept ;  but 
Jesus  appeared  to  sympathize  and  to  comfort.  Not,  indeed, 
in  a  visible  form  ;  but  by  His  word  and  Spirit,  and  with  the 
energy  and  power  of  His  grace.  Behold  that  mother  who  is 
watching  over  her  last  loved  one  on  earth,  experiencing  all 
those  dreadful  pangs  which  rend  a  loving  heart :  when  the 
only  remaining  earthly  cord  which  binds  her  to  this  life  is 
breaking,  she  looks  upon  the  sufferer  and  then  to  the  throne 
of  Christ,  and  in  full  assurance  of  faith  she  cries —  0  !  Jesus, 
I  give  him  to  thee !  And  thus  bereft  of  every  earthly  friend, 
there  is  present  to  her  an  invisible  Comforter,  who,  as  she 
looks  forward  with  trembling  on  that  journey  which  she  must 
tread  alone,  says  to  her  soul  —  "  Lo  !  I  am  with  you  always, 
even  unto  the  end." 

That  the  Redeemer  sympathizes  with  His  people  in  their 
afflictions  and  bereavements,  and  will  afford  them  relief,  is 
further  manifest  from  the  multitude  of  encouraging  promises 
which  He  has  left  us.  "  He  will  not  quench  the  smoking  flax 
nor  break  the  bruised  reed."  The  prophet  Isaiah,  the  notes 
of  whose  prophetic  harp  were  never  so  eloquent  and  sublime 
as  when  he  sang  our  Saviour's  character  and  mission, 
exclaims,  in  one  of  his  descriptions  of  the  God-Man,  "  And 
1  man  shall  be  as  a  hiding-place  from  the  wind,  and  a  covert 
from  the  tempest,  as  rivers  of  water  in  a  dry  place,  as  the 


WITH  BEREAVED  SOULS,  363 

shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land."  And  again  he 
represents  Him  as  commissioned  "  to  bind  up  tlie  broken- 
hearted, to  comfort  the  mourner,  to  give  beauty  for  ashes,  the 
oil  of  joy  for  mourning,  and  the  garment  of  praise  for  the 
spirit  of  heaviness," 

When  David  was  hunted  hke  a  bird,  and  found  refuge  in 
the  cave  of  Adulara,  beyond  the  reach  of  his  enemies,  he 
still  felt  the  importance  of  enjoying  the  sympathy  and  protec- 
tion of  the  Messiah,  as  he  said,  "  When  my  heart  is  over- 
whelmed within  me,  I  will  cry  from  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
lead  me  to  the  Rock  that  is  higher  than  I."  And  having  been 
led  to  that  refuge  for  sinners,  he  sang,  "  Thou  art  ray  rock 
and  my  fortress,  my  deliverer,  my  God,  my  strength  in  whom 
I  will  trust ;  my  buckler,  and  the  horn  of  my  salvation,  and 
my  high  tower."  And  during  a  severe  affliction  and  depres- 
sion of  spirit,  he  exclaims,  "  All  thy  waves  and  thy  billows 
have  (yone  over  me.  Yet  the  Lord  will  command  his  loving: 
kindness  in  the  day-time,  and  in  the  night  his  song  shall  be 
with  me,  and  my  prayer  unto  the  God  of  ray  life.  Why  art 
thou  cast  down,  0  my  soul.''  And  why  art  thou  disquieted 
in  me?  Hope  thou  in  God,  for  I  shall  yet  praise  him  who  is 
the  health  of  my  countenance  and  my  God."  Amid  the 
discouragements  and  fierce  conflicts  to  which  Luther,  the 
great  Reformer,  was  subjected,  his  soul  always  found  comfort 
in  singing  the  forty-sixth  Psalm  :  "  God  was  his  refuge  and 
strength,  and  a  very  present  help  in  time  of  trouble.  There- 
fore would  not  he  fear,  though  the  earth  were  removed,  and 
the  mountains  were  cast  into  the  midst  of  the  ser."   However 


364  SYMPATHY   OF   JESUS 

weary  and  faint  with  the  burdens  of  life,  he  could  drink  from 
those  exhaustless  streams  fed  by  the  river  of  Divine  love 
which  make  glad  the  city  of  (lod.  And  thus,  also,  may- 
every  believer  refresh  his  soul  in  times  of  distress.  He  can 
go  directly  to  the  Saviour  for  sympathy  and  aid.  He  can  say, 
Here,  Lord,  are  Thy  promises  uttered  by  Thy  Prophets,  by 
Thee,  and  Thine  Apostles.  Thou  hast  told  us  to  cast  "  our 
burdens  upon  thee,  that  thou  raayest  sustain  us."  Thou  hast 
given  Thy  Gospel  that  we  might  have  peace.  Thou  hast  said, 
"  in  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation  ;  but  be  of  good 
cheer,  I  have  overcome  the  world."  And  Thy  servants 
have  exhorted  us  "to  cast  all  our  cares  upon  ihee."  If  we 
urge  His  own  promises  with  an  humble  and  believing  heart, 
He  will  answer  our  prayers  in  their  fulfilment. 

Such  was  the  experience  of  the  primitive  disciples,  and 
hence  Paul  writes  to  the  Corinthians  —  "For  as  the  suffer- 
ings of  Christ  abound  in  us,  so  our  consolation  also  aboundeth 
by  Christ."  From  this  declaration  we  perceive  that  the 
sympathy  of  Jesus  is  associated  with  actual  consolation, 
which  sustains  those  who  are  united  with  Christ.  According 
to  the  views  of  Billroth,  Winer,  and  others,  the  sorrows 
endured  by  Christ  repeat  themselves  in  the  believer;  and 
hkewise  the  comfort  and  the  glorification  experienced  by  the 
Redeemer.  And  this  same  apostle  still  farther  magnifies  the 
consolation  with  which  Jesus  sustains  His  followers,  when  he 
writes — "  We  are  troubled  on  every  side,  yet  not  distressed ; 
we  are  perplexed,  but  not  in  despair;  persecuted,  but  not 
forsaken  ;  cast  down,  but  not  destroyed."     A  multitude  of 


WITH  BEREAVED  SOULS.  365 

illustrious  examples  might  be  cited,  to  show  how  cheerfully 
and  triumphantly  the  Lord  carries  His  people  through  the 
most  formidable  tribulations.  When  two  of  His  ambassadors 
were  cast  into  a  foul  prison,  wounded  and  bruised,  such  was 
the  sustaining  power  which  He  imparted,  and  such  the  joy  and 
consolation  with  which  He  filled  their  hearts,  that  at  midnight 
they  made  their  dungeon  resound  with  songs  of  praise. 
Martyrs  and  confessors  who  were  in  sympathy  with  Jesus, 
were  so  mightily  strengthened  in  the  inner  man,  that  they 
could  not  only  bear  the  flame,  but  were  in  raptures  while 
their  bodies  were  consumed  by  the  slow  fires  of  martyrdom. 
And  all  that  cloud  of  witnesses,  so  eloquently  described  in 
Hebrews,  who  also  encompass  us,  still  assure  us  that  the 
love,  sympathy,  and  power  of  Jesus  are  all  enlisted  in  the 
cause  of  His  sufTering  people. 

The  presence  and  sympathy  of  the  great  Redeemer,  there- 
fore, constitute  a  rich  legacy,  to  which  His  followers  may  at 
all  times  lay  claim.  And  the  excellence  and  importance  of 
this  legacy  it  is  impossible  to  estimate.  He  is  our  elder 
brother,  and  has,  therefore,  a  fellow-feeling  for  us.  And 
while  this  sympathy  is  high  as  heaven  and  ample  as  immen- 
sity, it  also  possesses  this  advantage,  that  the  blessings  which 
flow  from  it  are  exhaustless.  There  are  fountains  on  earth, 
which  send  forth  copious  and  clear  streams  ;  but  the  season 
of  drought  comes,  and  when  nature  has  most  need  of  such 
supplies,  they  flow  no  more.  And  thus,  also,  from  the  sources 
of  earthly  pleasure  and  human  comfort,  there  may  issue 
refreshing  waters  in  time  of  abundance  and  health,  but  all 
31* 


366  SYMPATHY    OF   JESUS 

these  are  cut  off  or  exhausted  in  the  hour  of  bereave- 
ment and  death.  It  is  not  so  with  the  sympathy  of  Jesus ; 
coming  from  the  infinite  and  unfathomable  depths  of  His 
nature,  it  will  flow  on  when  our  desolation  is  greatest — when 
our  souls  are  "  in  a  dry  and  thirsty  land,  where  no  water  is," 
this  stream  continues  to  gladden  and  refresh  our  weary  spirits. 
It  is  not  affected  by  those  changes  which  dry  up  the  springs 
of  temporal  enjoyments,  only  that  its  blessedness  is  better 
appreciated,  and  its  influences  are  multiplied.  It  is  this 
sympathy  of  Jesus  which  gives  us  the  joy  of  security  and  the 
triumph  of  victory.  It  was  in  view  of  the  conscious  union 
of  the  believer,  with  Christ,  that  the  Apostle  breaks  forth  in 
the  language  of  triumph,  as  he  looked  to  the  cross,  the  tomb, 
and  the  throne  of  the  Redeemer,  and  exultingly  asks,  "  If 
God  be  for  us,  who  (or  what)  can  be  against  us  ?  He  that 
spared  not  His  own  Son,  but  delivered  him  up  for  us  all,  how 
shall  he  not  also  with  him  freely  give  us  all  things  ?  Who  is 
He  that  condemneth?  It  is  Christ  that  died,  yea,  rather  that 
is  risen  again,  who  is  even  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  who  also 
maketh  intercession  for  us.  Who  shall  separate  us  from  the 
love  of  Christ  ?  Shall  tribulation,  or  distress,  or  persecution, 
or  famine,  or  nakedness,  or  peril,  or  sword  ?  As  it  is  written, 
for  thy  sake  are  we  killed  all  the  day  long ;  we  are  accounted 
as  sheep  for  the  slaughter.  Nay,  in  all  these  things  we  are 
more  than  conquerors,  through  Him  that  loved  us.  For 
I  am  persuaded  that  neither  life,  nor  death,  nor  angels, 
nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  things 
to    come,  nor  height,  nor   depth,  nor   any  other   creature, 


WITH  BEREAVED  SOULS.  367 

shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God  rhich  is  in 
Christ  Jesus  our  Lord."  What  a  grandeur  is  Lere  thrown 
aiound  the  Christian!  He  is  elevated  above  and  beyond 
himself.  He  triumphs  not  in  himself,  but  in  Christ.  All 
afflictions,  and  all  manner  of  evils  are  trodden  under  his  feet. 
The  love  and  sympathy  of  Jesus,  raise  him  to  the  exalted 
position  of  a  partaker  of  the  Redeemer's  glory,  so  that  he  can 
stand  by  the  throne  of  the  great  Mediatorial  King,  and  look 
out  upon  the  universe  and  claim  all  the  resources  of  God's 
dominion  for  his  defence  and  protection.  He  can  lay  hold 
of  the  arm  of  Omnipotence,  and  draw  round  about  him  the 
energies  of  Jehovah  as  his  bulwark,  and  shout  in  the  midst 
of  this  impregnable  enclosure  where  no  evil  can  reach  him, 
and  where  the  love  of  Jesus  fills  his  soul  unutterably  full  of 
glory.  0 !  ye  bereaved,  tried,  and  disconsolate  ones,  hasten 
to  this  refuge !  Come  to  this  sacred  and  safe  retreat ;  for 
here  are  the  green  pastures,  here  is  the  fountain  of  living 
waters  flowing  fresh,  free,  full,  and  glorious,  while  God  cries 
to  a  weary  world  —  "  Ho  !  every  one  that  is  athirst,  come  ye 
to  the  waters  of  life." 


CHAPTER  EIGHTEENTH. 


OUR  PRESENT  AND  OUR  FUTURE  HOME. 


"  There  is  a  spot  of  earth  supremely  blest, 
A  dearer,  sweeter  spot  than  all  the  rest, 
Where  man,  creation's  tyrant,  casts  aside 
His  sword  and  sceptre,  pageantry  and  pride ; 
While  in  his  softened  look  benignly  blend 
The  sire,  the  son,  the  husband,  brother,  friend. 
Here  woman  reigns ;  the  mother,  daughter,  wife, 
Strew  with  fresh  flowers  the  narrow  way  of  life ; 
In  the  clear  heaven  of  her  delightful  eye, 
An  angel-guard  of  loves  and  graces  lie ; 
Around  her  knees  domestic  duties  meet. 
And  fireside  pleasures  gambol  at  her  feet. 
Where  shall  that  land,  that  spot  of  earth  be  found 
Art  thou  a  man  ?  a  patriot  ?  look  around ; 
0,  thou  shalt  find,  howe'er  thy  footsteps  roam, 
That  land  thy  country,  and  that  spot  thy  home." 


The  word  Jiome  has  a  singular  charm  and  an  unutterable 
power.  It  is  a  mysterious  combination  of  hidden  forces  and 
delightful  associations ;  so  that,  whenever  it  is  uttered,  our 
heart-strings  vibrate  their  sweetest  melodies.  For  helpless 
infancy  and  enfeebled  age,  for  rich  and  poor,  for  the  humble 
and  exalted,  it  has  an  energy  and  beauty  which  no   other 

(3G8) 


PRESENT    AND    FUTURE    HOME.  369 

word  possesses.  It  brings  before  the  mind  the  place  where 
human  spirits  blend  most  intimately,  and  where  they  share 
each  other's  joys  and  woes.  Home  !  who  loves  it  not  ?  The 
exiled  prince  sighs  not  more  for  his  palace  than  the  banished 
peasant  for  his  hut.  In  whatever  clime  we  journey,  whether 
in  the  frozen  north  or  sunny  south,  under  the  soft  sky  of  Italy 
or  among  the  mountains  of  Switzerland,  in  the  populous  cities 
or  the  dreary  desert,  almost  every  object  which  we  behold 
will  wake  remembrances  which  will  cause  our  hearts  to  turn 
instinctively  to  that  beloved  spot  where  we  have  made  our 
abode.  And  yet,  amid  all  the  elevating  and  joyous  influences 
of  our  earthly  homes,  there  is  a  restlessness  of  spirit  which 
leaves  the  conviction  upon  the  mind  that  there  is  another  and 
a  better  home.  The  aspirations  of  the  soul  rise  above  and 
beyond  all  earthly  associations  and  institutions.  Every  thing 
around  us  reminds  us  that  we  have  here  no  abiding  city  ;  that 
we  are  strangers  and  pilgrims  on  earth,  and  must,  therefore, 
occasionally  realize  that  we  are  destined  for  a  higher  sphere. 
The  spirit  of  man  seems,  moreover,  conscious  of  its  origin, 
and  longs  and  pants  for  its  home  in  the  skies.  It  is  from 
the  assurances  of  the  Holy  Word  that  heaven  will  be  the 
Christian's  eternal  home,  that  we  draw  our  greatest  comfort 
when  we  are  called  to  part  with  friends  on  earth.  Those 
who  fall  asleep  in  Jesus  are  at  once  taken  to  that  blessed 
abode  which  God  has  provided  for  His  saints  ;  and  seeing 
that  our  present  existence  is  rapidly  running  to  its  close,  we 
look  forward  v,dth  joy  to  that  hour  when  we  shall  meet  our 
sainted  friends  in  the  mansions  of  our  Father's  house.   And  the 


370  PRESENT   AND   FUTURE   HOME.     ' 

more  we  may  be  able  to  fix  our  affections  on  that  blessed 
abode,  the  better  shall  we  be  able  to  endure  earthly  trials  and 
bereavements.  Among  the  primitive  Christians  death  was 
spoken  of  as  a  sleep  ;  and  when  one  of  their  number  died, 
it  was  said  he  has  fallen  asleep.  When  the  Moravian 
brethren  announce  the  death  of  a  friend,  they  say  he  has 
gone  home.  And  does  it  not  take  from  death  its  bitterness 
and  terror  when  it  is  regarded  as  a  transition  into  the  joys  of 
eternal  life  ?  It  assuredly  moderates  and  soothes  our  grief 
when  we  look  upon  our  departing  as  going  home.  In  view 
of  the  quieting  and  soothing  influences  which  heavenly  medi- 
tations, in  connection  with  other  considerations,  breathe 
upon  the  troubled  soul,  I  feel  as  though  I  could  not  more 
fittingly  close  these  consolatory  lessons  than  by  directing  the 
reader's  attention  to  the  Christian's  future  home. 

That  there  is  such  a  place  as  heaven,  and  that  it  is  the  home 
of  the  redeemed,  is  susceptible  of  the  clearest  demonstration. 
Admitting  that  there  is  a  future  state  of  existence  for  that 
mixed  multitude  of  souls  which  now  people  the  earth,  reason 
would  suggest  the  propriety  of  a  place  exclusively  con- 
secrated to  the  holy.  Here  they  are  annoyed  and  wearied 
by  the  corruptions  and  pollutions  of  this  sinful  world,  and  it 
is  but  just  that  those  who  faithfully  serve  God,  and  wage  a 
continual  warfare  against  sin,  should  at  last  find  an  abode 
where  they  shall  be  secure  against  its  aggressions  upon  their 
peace.  And  the  Scriptures  so  abundantly  and  clearly  affirm 
that  there  is  a  blessed  home  for  the  righteous,  and  a  rest  for 
the  people  of  God  ;  and  the  yearnings  and  convictions  of  all 


PRESENT   AND    FUTURE   HOME.  371 

men  so  fully  coincide  with  the  teachings  of  revelation  on  this 
subject ;  that  an  array  of  elaborate  proof  would  be  superflu- 
ous. Granting,  then,  that  there  is  no  question  as  to  the  fact 
of  its  existence,  the  first  inquiry  which  demands  our  attention 
is  that  which  relates  to  the  locality  of  our  future  home. 
Where  has  God  established  the  residence  of  His  people  ? 
Of  this  we  cannot  speak  with  absolute  certainty ;  yet  is  the 
opinion  universal  that  it  is  above  us.  It  may,  however, 
be  said,  and  that  with  truth,  that  such  expressions  are 
indefinite,  for  the  obvious  reason  that  that  which  is  above 
us  now  will  be  beneath  us  twelve  hours  hence,  on  account 
of  the  earth's  motion.  But  that  it  lies,  however,  beyond  the 
starry  firmament  is  justly  inferable  from  the  manner  in  which 
the  Bible  speaks  of  it,  and  also  from  the  language  of  our 
Lord  and  His  apostles.  The  Word  of  God  speaks  of  three 
heavens.  First,  the  atmosphere ;  as  when  Jesus  directs 
attention  to  the  sleepless  care  of  Providence  over  the  fowls 
of  the  air,  which  neither  sow  nor  reap,  but  are  cared  for  and 
fed  by  the  hand  of  God.  And  also  in  other  places  in  the 
Scriptures  do  we  read  of  "  the  fowls  of  heaven,"  and  "  cities 
walled  up  to  heaven ;"  in  all  such  phrases  nothing  more 
is  meant  than  the  air.  The  second  meaning  of  the  term  is 
applied  to  the  firmament,  or  the  "sidereal  heavens," 
"  When  I  consider  the  heavens  the  work  of  thy  fingers,  the 
moon  and  the  stars  which  thou  hast  ordained."  And  lastly, 
we  have  the  imperial  heaven,  the  glorious  residence  of  God 
and  His  holy  ones  ;  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  "  the  third 
heaven ;" — the  place  to  which  Paul  was  elevated  during  his 


372  PRESENT    AND    FUTURE    HOME. 

trance,  and  where  he  heard  and  saw  things  which  it  was  not 
lawful  to  utter.  This  classification,  or  division,  originated 
with  the  Jews ;  and  hence  the  different  significations  of  the 
term,  when  applied  to  different  objects,  were  understood  by 
.  them.  The  Apostle,  in  one  of  his  epistles,  says  that  Jesus 
ascended  above  "  all  heavens ;"  and  by  that  he  certainly 
meant,  and  was  doubtless  understood  to  say,  that  Christ  rose 
beyond  the  starry  firmament  to  the  abode  of  Deity.  And  it 
would  also  seem  to  be  in  harmony  with  our  conceptions  of 
the  fitness  of  things,  to  suppose,  that  heaven  is  the  central 
point  of  the  universe  of  God.  I  do  not  know  that  we  have 
any  clear  intimations  in  Scripture  which  would  justify  this 
supposition  ;  but  it  is  absolutely  certain  that  there  is  nothing 
in  the  Word  of  God  which  stands  opposed  to  this  opinion. 

If  we  are  allowed  to  reason  from  analogy  on  a  subject  like 
this,  we  might  make  out  more  than  a  plausible  or  probable 
proof.  If  we  examine  any  thing  that  is  systematically 
arranged,  we  shall  discover  that  it  contains  some  controlling 
principle  or  power,  which  governs  the  entire  structure ;  so 
that  every  system  has  a  central  point  to  which  all  that  forms 
a  part  of  it  tends.  It  is  to  the  centre  of  the  earth  that  all 
things  within  the  range  of  our  atmosphere  gravitate.  And  in 
like  manner,  all  the  planetary  systems  have  their  central 
suns,  around  which  they  perform  their  revolutions.  A  similar 
principle  is  recognized  in  law,  in  philosophy,  and  in  religion. 
The  great  system  of  Christianity  acknowledges  its  author  as 
its  central  and  vitalizing  power,  from  whom  all  its  excellence 
and  efficiency  proceed.     And  thus,  also,  do  we  observe  a 


PRESENT    AND    FUTURE    HOME.  373 

like  arrangement  in  those  two  great  moral  divisions  of  intelli- 
o-ent  beino-s  in  the  universe.  Each  of  these  two  classes  has 
a  point  of  confluence,  or  a  gathering-place  of  their  appropriate 
elements  and  influences.  Heaven  is  the  point  to  which  all 
holy  beings  tend  ;  the  congregating  place  of  the  just  from  all 
nations,  and  kindreds,  and  tongues.  And  it  is  just  as 
certain  that  all  who  have  upon  them  the  insignia  of  the  king- 
dom of  darkness,  and  are  marked  by  the  tokens  of  perdition, 
are  tending  to  hell,  as  the  central  point  of  unmixed  and  un- 
mitigated evil.  And  if  this  is  a  divinely  ordained  principle, 
which  controls  every  where,  and  whose  potency  is  acknow- 
ledged in  all  things;  may  we  not  reasonably  infer  that  the 
same  order  is  observed  in  those  things  which  lie  beyond  the 
range  of  reason,  and  are  matters  of  conjecture,  or  faith  ?  And 
if  so,  is  it  not  a  warrantable  conclusion,  that  God,  whose 
controlling  energy  fills  the  universe,  has  chosen  the  centre  of 
His  vast  dominions  as  His  own  appropriate  residence,  where 
He  will  perpetually  reside  with  all  His  saints  ?  The  opinion 
certainly  commends  itself  to  our  judgment,  and  also  falls  in 
with  the  gorgeous  imagery  of  Scripture,  which  throws  an 
ineffable  splendor  around  the  abode  of  the  righteous.  But 
if  we  are  left  to  conjecture,  in  regard  to  the  particular  location 
of  that  "house  of  many  mansions,"  prepared  for  the  re- 
deemed, we  are  not  left  in  doubt  as  to  the  nature  and 
employments  of  the  place. 

And  here  I  would  remark,  that  we  have  abundant  reason 
to  believe,  from  the  many  declarations  of  Scripture  as  to  the 
appearance  and  structure  of  the  place,  that  it  is  invested  with 
32 


374  PRESENT    AND    TUTURE    HOME. 

a  lofty  physical  grandeur.  Admitting  that  it  is  a  place,  and 
keeping  in  view  the  object  for  which  it  was  provided,  and 
the  resources  and  skill  of  the  Architect  of  the  structure  ;  we 
would  naturally  conceive  it  to  he  possessed  of  exalted  ex- 
cellence. The  monarch  who  wields  the  sceptre  of  earthly 
empire,  does  not  make  his  largest  expenditures  upon  the 
improvement  of  his  provinces  and  cities  farthest  from  the  seat 
of  royalty ;  on  the  contrary,  the  style  and  structure  of  his 
palace,  and  the  adornments  of  the  imperial  city,  will  share 
more  largely  in  his  munificence  than  any  other  portions  of 
his  dominions.  The  place  where  the  powers  of  government 
reside,  and  the  interests  of  state  are  shaped,  is  generally  made 
attractive,  and  in  most  instances  honored  with  higher  decora- 
tions than  any  other.  And  is  it  not  our  privilege  to  believe 
that  the  home  which  the  Ruler  of  the  universe  has  fitted  up 
for  His  children,  will  be  clothed  with  a  more  excellent  glory 
than  any  other  part  of  His  dominions?  Such  an  inference  is 
not  more  natural  than  we  believe  it  to  be  just ;  for  the 
imagery  which  Inspiration  employs  to  represent  heaven,  is 
always  of  a  glowing  character.  Our  Saviour  himself  speaks 
of  it  under  the  idea  of  a  vast  structure  containing  many 
apartments.  "  In  my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions , 
if  it  were  not  so,  I  would  have  told  you.  I  go  to  prepare  a 
place  for  you."  And  if  He  who  fashioned  the  heavens  and 
the  earth,  has  fitted  up  that  abode,  will  it  not  correspond  with 
the  character  of  His  other  works  ?  And  are  not  all  His 
creations  beautiful?  There  is  a  beauty  in  the  winged  cloud 
and  in  the  circling  wave !     There  is  a  beauty  in  the  setting 


PRESENT   AND   FUTURE   HOME.  375 

sun,  and  in  the  dawn  of  day !  Tliere  is  Ijeauty  in  tlie  warb- 
ling streamlet  and  its  spotted  tribes!  There  is  beauty  in  the 
forest,  in  the  field,  in  the  dew-drop,  and  in  the  ocean  !  Look 
out  upon  the  earth,  and  see  !  Is  it  not  beautiful,  though  it 
rests  under  the  curse  ?  With  what  a  ravishing  glory  does  it 
roll  forth  to  our  view,  clothed  in  that  rich  and  varied  robe 
which  Nature  puts  on  in  spring.  Behold  the  mountains  and 
continents,  rivers  and  seas,  all  are  arrayed  with  a  gran- 
deur that  delights  and  charms  the  observer.  But  if  the 
glorious  Maker  of  all  things  has  given  so  many  visible  dis- 
plays of  His  power  and  goodness,  and  clothed  with  g^ory, 
the  sun,  the  moon,  and  the  stars,  and  covered  the  whole 
creation  with  so  many  visible  beauties,  may  we  not  rest 
confidently  assured,  that  the  home  of  His  chosen  ones  is 
invested  with  a  transcendent  glory  ?  His  own  presence  will 
make  it  glorious  beyond  conception.  For  while  His  glory 
gleams  from  every  star,  and  shines  in  every  sun,  and  is  sung 
in  every  anthem  of  nature,  all  the  brightness,  goodness,  and 
excellence  scattered  through  the  universe,  are  only  rays  or 
emanations  which  have  gone  out  from  Him,  as  the  infinite 
centre  of  all  that  is  lovely  and  glorious. 

The  physical  glory  of  the  place  may  also  be  inferred  from 
the  names  by  which  it  is  known.  Heaven  is  called  the 
Paradise  of  God.  The  Eden  where  Adam  and  Eve  dwelt 
was  garnished  with  a  rare  excellence.  A  garden  watered  by 
four  rivers,  adorned  with  flowers  and  fountains,  and  peopled 
with  every  object  that  could  excite  pleasurable  emotions; 
and  yet  was  it  only  an  emblem  of  our  future  homo.     The 


376  PRESENT   AND    FUTURE    HOME. 

apostle  John  describes  the  New  Jerusalem  as  a  city  built  of 
the  raost  costly  materials.  "  Its  foundations  were  garnished 
Avith  all  manner  of  precious  stones,  and  with  walls  of  jasper." 
"  A  city  of  pure  gold,  and  with  gates  of  solid  pearls." 
"  And  the  glory  of  the  nations  was  brought  into  it."  "And 
a  river  of  water  clear  as  crystal  flbwing  from  the  throne  of 
God  and  the  Lamb."  "  And  in  the  midst  of  the  street 
thereof,  and  on  either  side  of  the  river,  was  there  the  tree  of 
life,  which  bare  twelve  manner  of  fruits,  and  yielded  her  fruit 
every  month  ;  and  the  leaves  thereof  were  for  the  healing  of 
the  nations."  "  And  there  shall  be  no  night  there  ;  and  they 
need  no  candle,  neither  light  of  the  sun  ;  for  the  Lord  God 
giveth  them  light,  and  they  shall  reign  forever  and  ever." 
And  thus,  also,  in  all  the  other  inspired  books  where  heaven 
is  spoken  of,  do  we  find  it  represented  under  the  most  bril- 
liant emblems.  The  material  creation  is  laid  under  contribu- 
tion for  images  descriptive  of  the  physical  grandeur  of  that 
blessed  abode.  And  who  can  doubt  that  the  most  sublime 
and  gorgeous  figures  will  fall  short  of  the  reality?  Nay,  its 
blessedness  and  glory  will  far  transcend  even  the  high- 
wrought  imagery  of  Inspiration.  For  however  well-conceived 
and  graphic  any  representation  of  it  may  be,  the  figure  is 
but  a  shadow,  and  can  never  rise  to  a  full  conception 
of  the  object  which  it  is  designed  to  image.  Could  the 
pencil  of  Raphael  have  transferred  the  living  grandeur  of 
Niagara  upon  the  canvass  ?  Can  any  artist  paint  an  evening 
sunset  with  its  appropriate  gorgeousness  and  the  mellowing 
beauty  of  its  vanishing  glories  ?     And  if  not,  why  should  it 


PRESENT   AND    FUTURE   HOME.  377 

appear  marvellous  that  the  glowing  descriptions  of  heaven 
cannot  adequately  or  fully  acquaint  us  with  its  actual  perfec- 
tions. The  skill  and  resources  of  Jehovah  have  been  laid 
out  upon  it.  Man  has  constructed  elegant  palaces,  and 
wrought  many  attractive  things  ;  but  God  did  not  commit  the 
preparation  of  that  mansion  to  man  nor  angels,  but  His  own 
hand  has  fashioned  it ;  and,  therefore,  it  is  doubtless  true 
even  of  the  physical  excellencies  of  the  home  of  the  pure 
that  "  eye  hath  not  seen,  ear  hath  not  heard  ;  neither  hath  it 
entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive  what  God  hath  laid 
up  for  those  who  love  him." 

But  the  future  home  of  Christians  is  also  possessed  of  a 
moral  glory.  It  is  an  abode  of  spotless  purity.  "  Nothing 
that  defileth  can  enter  within  those  gates."  This  holiness 
of  heaven  is  represented  under  the  image  of  light.  -Light  is 
the  only  material  substance  that  is  altogether  pure.  Gold  is 
not  perfectly  free  from  impurities ;  and  the  gems  which 
sparkle  in  the  imperial  crown  are  not  as  pure  as  the  sunbeams 
which  they  reflect.  Light  may  pass  through  an  impure 
medium,  and  fall  upon  the  stagnant  and  foul  pool  without 
being  tarnished.  And  since  it  is  not  only  perfectly  pure,  but 
warms  and  illumines  the  world,  it  is  used  as  an  image  of 
piety  and  holiness.  The  most  sublime  passage,  perhaps, 
in  Milton,  is  his  apostrophe  to  light :  — 

"  Hail,  holy  Light !     Offspring  of  Heaven  first-born  ! 
Or  of  the  eternal  coeternal  beam 
May  I  express  thee  unblamed  ?  since  God  is  light, 
And  never  but  in  unapproached  light, 
Dwelt  from  eternity,  dwelt  then  in  thee, 
Bright  effluence  of  bright  essence  increate." 

32* 


378  PRESENT   AND   FUTURE   HOME. 

And  as  the  purity  and  the  blessings  of  light  made  it  a  fit 
emblem  in  the  estimation  of  inspired  writers  to  represent  the 
nature  and  effects  of  religion,  so  also  for  the  same  reason  is 
it  appropriately  used  to  describe  the  purity  and  felicity  of 
heaven.  Hence  it  is  written,  "  And  there  shall  be  no  night 
there."  No  physical  night,  no  darkness,  shall  ever  mantle 
the  celestial  fields;  no  intellectual  night,  no  errors  of  judg- 
ment, no  fallacious  conclusions  of  the  reasoning  faculties. 
But  above  all,  there  will  be  no  moral  night ;  no  impurity  to 
stain  the  soul,  no  foul  breath  to  pollute  the  air,  no  impure 
foot  shall  walk  the  golden  streets,  and  no  unholy  eye  shall 
look  upon  its  glories.  But  the  moral  glory  of  that  home  is 
heightened,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  not  only  the  place  but  all 
the  inhabitants  are  holy.  The  adorable  Trinity,  Father,  Son, 
and  Holy  Ghost,  are  infinitely  and  absolutely  holy.  Isaiah, 
in  his  vision,  "  saw  the  Lord  sitting  upon  a  throne  high  and 
lifted  up,  and  his  train  filled  the  temple."  "  And  above  it 
stood  the  seraphims."  "And  one  cried  unto  another,  and 
said.  Holy,  holy,  holy,  is  the  Lord  of  hosts ;  the  whole  earth 
is  fall  of  his  glory."  And  in  the  Apocalypse  the  heavenly 
inhabitants  are  represented  .as  crying  with  a  loud  voice,  say- 
ing, "  Holy,  holy,  holy,  art  thou.  Lord  God  Almighty  ;  just 
and  true  are  all  thy  ways,  thou  King  of  saints."  And  of  this 
purity  all  the  dwellers  in  heaven  are  partakers.  All  the 
angels  are  holy.  And  as  to  the  saints,  they  are  like  Christ ; 
bearing  His  image,  and  reflecting  His  glorious  holiness,  as 
the  planets  reflect  the  light  of  the  sun.  "  He  is  able  to 
present  you  faultless  before  the  presence  of  his  glory  with 


PRESENT   AND   FUTURE   HOME.  379 

exceeding  joy."  "  Then,"  saith  the  Saviour,  "  shall  the 
rigliteous  shine  forth  as  the  sun  in  the  kingdom  of  the 
Father."  "  They  that  be  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness 
of  the  firmament,  and  as  the  stars,  forever  and  ever." 
"  They  shall  walk  with  me  in  white,  for  they  are  worthy." 
"  The  sufferings  of  this  present  time,"  says  the  Apostle,  "  are 
not  worthy  to  be  compared  to  the  glory  which  shall  be 
revealed  in  us."  These,  and  many  other  passages  represent 
to  us  the  holiness  of  the  saints.  They  are  holy  as  God  is 
holy.  And  what  an  inconceivable  moral  splendor  must, 
therefore,  clothe  that  heavenly  world  !  What  a  dignity  and 
glory  would  cover  the  earth,  were  all  its  inhabitants  morally 
pure  !  But  alas !  it  is  not  so  here  ;  for  this  world  is  a  moral 
waste,  with  here  and  there  a  flower  w^aked  into  bloom  by  the 
quickening  power  of  Divine  grace.  This  earth  is  a  land  of 
storms  and  tempests,  of  tears  and  woes.  Here  we  groan,  being 
burdened  wuh  many  imperfections,  and  oppressed  with  many 
trials.  One  calamity  after  another  sweeps  with  desolating 
power  ov6r  those  cherished  spots  where  we  rejoiced  in  the 
light  of  earthly  prosperity  ;  and  we  move  about  in  that  circle 
once  radiant  with  joys,  and  vocal  with  voices  forever  hushed 
on  earth,  and  fill  it  with  our  lamentations,  and  water  it  with 
our  tears.  Here  we  are  continually  reminded  of  the  evil  of 
sin,  and  the  miseries  with  which  it  embitters  life.  But 
yonder  we  shall  have  passed  beyond  the  reach  of  its  influ- 
ence ;  for  in  that  home  of  bliss  there  is  no  curse,  no  sin,  no 
sorrow,  no  death.  All  are  happy,  all  are  glowing  with  the 
glory  of  Christ,  and  all  things  are  flashing  w^ilh  the  holiness 


380  PRESENT    AND    FUTURE    HOME. 

of  God.  Blessed  abode  of  my  God  !  holy  home  of  my 
beloved  ones !  may  I  one  day  rejoice  in  thee,  and  fill  thee 
with  my  hallelujahs,  while  I  lift  my  voice  in  the  song  of 
Moses  and  the  Lamb. 

It  is  also  a  happy  and  glorious  home.  There  there  is 
perfect  harmony,  and,  therefore,  perfect  peace.  No  disturb- 
ing element  can  enter  there  to  conflict  with  our  happiness. 
Here  we  are  never  secure  against  those  numerous  external 
evils  and  internal  corruptions  which  mar  our  tranquillity  and 
disturb  the  peace  of  our  souls.  But  as  all  those  influences 
which  agitate  and  afflict  our  spirits  are  caused  by  sin,  and  as 
in  heaven  we  shall  be  perfectly  holy,  we  shall  also  be 
perfectly  happy.  And  besides  the  absence  of  all  disturbing 
causes  and  jarring  elements,  the  saints  are  also  in  possession 
of  all  that  can  possibly  contribute  to  the  enjoyment  of  a 
rational  being.  If  it  is  already  our  privilege  to  drink  so 
largely  from  the  fountains  of  grace  as  to  fill  the  soul  unutter- 
ably full  of  joy,  how  much  more  will  our  happiness  be  aug- 
mented when  drinking  from  the  river  which  flows  from  the 
midst  of  the  throne  of  God !  Here  in  this  house  of  our 
pilgrimage  we  have  an  occasional  drop  of  refreshing ;  but 
there  is  the  ocean  of  glory ;  for  it  is  only  beyond  the  grave 
that  we  shall  enjoy  the  full  flows  of  eternal  happiness.  Here 
w^e  have  the  bud  and  the  blossom,  there  the  fully  matured 
clusters. 

But  it  is  also  a  glorious  home  in  view  of  the  society  of  the 
place,  and  the  relations  they  sustain  to  each  other.  The 
apostles  speak  of  heaven  as  a  house,  a  city,  a  commonwealth, 


PRESENT   AND    FUTURE   HOME,  381 

or  association  of  believers.  "  For  we  know  that  if  our  earthly 
house  of  this  tabernacle  were  dissolved,  we  have  a  building 
of  God,  a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens." 
"  Abraham,  by  faith,  sojourned  in  the  land  of  promise,  as  in 
a  strange  land,  dwelling  in  tabernacles  with  Isaac  and  Jacob, 
the  heirs  with  him  of  the  same  promise.  For  he  looked 
for  a  city  which  hath  foundations,  whose  builder  and  maker 
is  God."  "  But  ye  are  come  unto  mount  Zion  ;  and  unto 
the  city  of  the  living  God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  to  an 
innumerable  company  of  angels,  to  the  general  assembly  and 
the  church  of  the  first-born,  which  are  written  in  heaven,  and 
to  God  the  Judge  of  all,  and  to  the  spirits  of  the  just  made 
perfect,  and  to  Jesus  the  mediator  of  the  new  covenant." 
Now  the  grand  idea  in  these  and  similar  passages  is,  that 
heaven  is  a  great  family,  and  that  God,  as  the  Father, 
presides  overall;  and  thus  dwelling  and  rejoicing  together 
forever  in  each  other's  society.  There  will  be  the  full 
and  perfect  communion  of  saints.  This  family  embraces 
all  the  distinguished  good  from  all  nations  and  ages. 
Among  them  will  be  found  the  parents  of  our  race.  There 
will  be  found  the  Patriarchs  ;  Moses  the  lawgiver,  and  Aaron 
the  priest.  There  will  the  sweet  singer  of  Israel  pour  forth 
exalted  strains  of  melody,  and  the  lofty  Isaiah  will  utter  yet 
sublimer  conceptions  of  the  grandeur  of  Jehovah.  Jeremiah, 
Ezekiel,  Daniel,  and  all  the  prophets  will  mingle  in  the 
eternal  song,  and  commune  with  us  concerning  the  wonders 
and  glories  of  redemption.  And  there  will  we  meet  the 
innumerable  company  of  martyrs  and  confessors,  those  great 


382  PRESENT    AND    FUTURE    HOME. 

champions  of  Christianity  "  of  whom  the  world  was  not 
worthy."  And  there  too,  shall  we  join  those  with  whom  we 
wept  and  rejoiced  on  earth,  and  with  whom  we  took  sweet 
counsel ; — our  parents,  our  children,  companions  and  friends  ; 
and  above  all  we  will  see  Jesus  our  elder  brother,  the  God- 
Man,  arrayed  in  the  vestiture  of  His  ineffable  glory. 

And  while  the  great  company  of  redeemed  will  present 
the  same  variety  in  capacity  and  peculiarity  of  mind 
which  distinguished  them  from  each  other  on  earth,  there  will 
be  a  perfect  moral  likeness.  While  those  of  lofty  intellectual 
faculties  may  soar  higher  in  their  conceptions,  and  their 
thoughts  sweep  a  wider  range  than  many  around  them,  they 
will  have  upon  them  the  same  moral  characteristics  which  the 
humblest  minds  possess.  All  will  be  completely  happy ; 
but  it  will  require  more  of  God  and  of  the  universe  to  fill  the 
capacities  of  a  Newton,  than  those  of  an  African.  They  may 
also  retain  their  peculiar  cast  of  mind,  so  that  those  who  have 
the  poetic  order  may  pour  forth  in  flowing  numbers  the 
sublime  raptures  which  the  objects  around  them  have  kindled 
in  their  souls,  w'hile  others  of  a  different  mental  sttucture, 
may  delight  in  watching  the  revolving  orbs  of  light,  and 
investigating  their  physical  structure.  But  under  whatever 
phases  the  intellects  of  the  glorified  may  appear,  they  will  all 
be  conscious  of  the  same  moral  exercises ;  for  all  are  par- 
takers of  the  spirit  of  Christ,  and  instinct  with  His  glorious 
presence.  Their  feelings,  desires,  and  emotions,  are  all 
blended  in  those  utterances  of  praise  to  which  they  are 
constantly  inclined.     And  this  moral  likeness  to  each  other 


PRESENT    AND    FUTURE    HOME.  383 

and  to  (iod,  and  this  fusion  of  souls,  will  constitute  their 
intercourse  one  of  the  noblest  and  most  delightful  order.  This 
oneness  of  character  will  inspire  each  with  love  for  all  the 
dwellers  in  the  heavenly  Zion,  and,  therefore,  secure  that 
mutual  aid,  which  may  be  required  in  their  progress  of  know- 
ledge, and  in  their  study  of  the  mysteries  of  eternity.  The 
angels  who  existed  before  the  worlds  were  formed,  and  who 
sang  together  when  the  creative  energies  of  Jehovah  were 
displayed  in  the  formation  of  this  earth,  may  unfold  to  our 
infant  minds  many  things  which  will  fill  us  with  admiration 
and  joy. 

Among  the  elements  which  will  enter  into  our  happiness  in 
that  blessed  home,  the  employments  in  which  w^e  shall  engage 
will  constitute  a  large  item.  To  me  it  has  always  seemed 
an  erroneous  supposition  that  the  activities  of  the  saints  are 
wholly  taken  up  in  acts  of  praise  and  contemplations  of 
the  perfections  of  Deity.  That  these  exercises  will  enter 
largely  into  their  occupations  is  morally  certain  ;  but  that 
they  are  the  only  and  exclusive  employments  does  not  appear 
probable.  There  are  many  other  methods  besides  this  con- 
templation through  which  the  excellency  of  the  Divine  char- 
acter may  be  discovered  and  admired.  The  history  of  crea- 
tion will  be  an  absorbing  theme  of  interest  and  study.  For 
with  it  are  associated  the  grandeur,  the  might,  the  wisdom, 
and  goodness  of  God,  The  extent  and  duration  of  His 
kingdom  and  being,  the  profundity  of  His  counsels,  and  the 
sublinjity  of  His  power  and  glory,  are  all  brought  under 
review  in    the  volume   of  creation.     Communications  from 


384  PRESENT   AND    FUTURE    HOME. 

those  sons  of  light  who  were  spectators  of  that  event  may  be 
imparted  to  the  saints.  And  add  to  this  the  fact  that  God 
will  throw  open  to  the  inspection  of  His  children  the  entire 
universe,  and  permit  them  to  visit  all  the  worlds  that  move  in 
cloudless  majesty  through  His  vast  dominions,  and  what  sub- 
lime lessons  will  the  mind  learn  as  it  sweeps  over  that  field  of 
immensity,  studded  with  the  magnificent  creations  of  Jehovah ! 
If  the  cultivated  mind  already  derives  its  most  exalted  pleas- 
ures from  devout  astronomical  studies,  will  it  not  experience 
infinitely  greater  delight,  then,  in  viewing  the  motions  and 
listening  to  the  melodies  of  the  spheres  ?  And  as  the  grandeur 
of  God's  creations  was  the  frequent  theme  of  prophets  and 
inspired  writers  in  general,  and  as  nothing  which  they  have 
written  impresses  the  mind  whh  a  livelier  sense  of  the  might 
and  majesty  of  the  great  Architect  than  their  allusions  to,  and 
descriptions  of,  the  vast  materialism  which  He  has  fashioned, 
so  is  it  reasonable  to  infer  that  our  impressions  of  the  great- 
ness of  Jehovah  will  be  proportionably  increased  as  our  con- 
ceptions of  the  extent  and  magnificence  of  His  empire  will 
be  enlarged.  We  cherish  it,  then,  as  a  precious  conviction 
that  those  heavens  into  whose  holy  depths  our  eyes  have  so 
often  and  admiringly  peered  will  become  accessible  to  our 
spirits,  and  that  it  will  be  our  privilege  to  survey  and  explore 
all  the  worlds  with  which  they  are  peopled,  as  we  now  do  the 
earth  upon  which  we  dwell. 

But  another  source  of  happiness  in  our  future  home  will  be 
the  volume  of  Divine  Providence.  That  book  contains  many 
chapters,    which   must   be    intensely   interesting   to    all   the 


PRESENT    AND    FUTURE    HOME.  385 

inhabitants  of  heaven.  The  first  will  be  that  which  relates 
to  our  personal  history.  There  is  much  in  our  present  life 
which  we  imperfectly  comprehend,  and  still  much  more  that 
is  dark  and  mysterious.  In  many  things  which  affect  our 
circumstances  and  condition,  and  which  modify  or  determine 
our  character,  we  may  recognize  the  presence  of  a  super- 
human agency,  but  cannot  always  know  the  reasons  which 
influenced  the  Divine  mind  in  its  providential  dealings  with 
us.  Things  to  which,  perhaps,  we  now  assign  no  higher 
origin  than  that  of  our  own  minds  or  foresight,  may  there  be 
recognized  as  the  legitimate  products  of  a  power  behind  our 
mental  operations,  which,  unknown  to  us,  controlled  these  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  conduct  us  to  the  results  which  appeared 
in  our  life.  We  like  to  think  of  God  as  present  in  all  things, 
and  of  His  unseen  hand  as  shaping  our  destinies  for  both 
Vvorlds.  For  the  Saviour  has  taught  us  that  His  providence 
extends  to  the  smallest  particulars  of  our  history.  A  sparrow 
falls  not  to  the  ground,  neither  is  a  hair  injured  upon  our 
heads,  without  the  Divine  permission.  God  exercises  a 
w^atchful  care  over  His  people,  and  "has  given  His  angels 
charge  concerning  them."  Such  is  the  view  every  Christian 
delights  to  entertain  of  the  Divine  protection.  It  is  a  great 
comfort  to  know  that  His  eye  is  upon  us,  and  His  hand  over 
us,  and  that  His  will  determines  our  steps.  I  love  to  see  my 
God  in  the  spangled  heavens,  and  hear  the  silent  utterances 
of  its  hosts  saying  to  my  inmost  soul,  God  is  here.  I  love  to 
see  God  in  the  storm  that  darkens  and  sweeps  the  firmament, 
and  hear  Him  in  the  voice  of  the  royal  thunder,  as  it  rolls 
33 


886  PRESENT    AND    FUTURE    HOME. 

along  the  great  archway  of  the  universe.  I  love  to  see  Him 
in  the  majestic  ocean  and  in  the  quiet  landscape,  and  hear 
His  breathings  in  the  soft  melodies  of  the  sighing  breeze. 
But  God  is  more  beautiful  still  when  I  see  Him  in  the  tear  ot 
penitence,  or  the  smile  of  resignation.  And  if  such  be  our 
feelings  here,  with  what  interest  and  wonder  will  we  scan 
those  records  of  Providence  which  are  at  present  so  obscure 
that  no  human  penetration  can  read  them !  Then  will  the 
life  that  now  appears  disjointed  and  gloomy  be  a  brilliant 
chain  of  connected  events,  upon  which  every  dark  calamity 
endured  will  form  a  glittering  gem. 

In  this  world,  "  we  cannot,  by  searching,  find  out  God," 
for  "  His  paths  are  in  the  seas,  and  His  footsteps  in  the  deep 
waters."  This  is  generally  our  experience  in  those  afflictive 
dispensations  which  befall  us.  We  know  not  why  God 
should  have  given  us  that  ang-elic  child,  and  invested  it  with 
such  attractive  charms,  and  endowed  it  with  such  rare 
powers  that  it  drew  every  fibre  of  our  hearts  around  it,  and 
then  just  when  the  mind  and  heart  were  unfolding  their 
precious  treasures  destroy  our  hopes.  The  loss  of  friends 
who,  according  to  our  apprehension,  had  not  yet  fulfilled 
their  mission,  or  the  failure  of  health  or  fortune,  may  be 
shrouded  in  impenetrable  gloom  to  our  minds,  and  yet  those 
very  calamities  may  be  the  vestures  which  conceal  from  our 
view  the  most  valuable  blessings  which  the  hand  of  God  has 
ever  bestowed  upon  us.  "  Ye  know  not  now,  but  ye  shall 
know  hereafter,"  said  our  Saviour  to  His  disciples  ;  and  thus 
.t  is  with  all  God's  people.     Jacob  once  "  said  all  these 


PRESENT   AND    FUTURE   HOME.  387 

things  are  against  rae."  But  the  sequel  of  his  history  proved 
that  God  permitted  those  trials  for  the  patriarch's  good.  And 
when  once  in  heaven,  where  we  shall  have  a  full  knowledge 
of  the  providential  appointments  of  God,  while  He  was  fitting 
us  for  a  better  world,  we  will  be  constrained  to  praise  Him 
for  those  painful  incidents  which  here  cause  us  our  deepest 
sorrow.  We  will  then  see  that  infinite  mercy  dictated  our 
aflflictions,  and  infallible  wisdom  controlled  them  for  our 
profit.  And  if  not  now,  we  shall  hereafter  see  that  all  things 
are  ordered  by  God.  As  every  atom  vibrates  with  omnipo- 
tence, so  every  event  connected  with  the  salvation  of  the  soul 
is  instinct  with  Divinity.  For  as  all  things  are  ushered  into 
existence  to  show  forth  the  glory  of  God  ;  so  has  He  designed 
that  each  one  should  do  so  in  the  way  which  He  has  ordained. 
And  as  every  object  and  event,  so,  also,  has  every  individual 
a  particular  mission  to  fulfil,  and  a  special  work  to  perform. 
All  are  necessary  to  complete  the  grand  design  of  God,  and 
to  carry  out  those  great  purposes  which  pervade  the  plan  of 
the  Divine  government.  And  that  we  may  accomplish  our 
part  in  the  great  work  in  which  God,  and  Christ,  and  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and  angels,  and  men,  are  co-workers,  we  must 
be  qualified  by  that  providential  discipline,  which  an  all-wise 
God  sees  best  suited  to  secure  this  end.  It  is  not,  then, 
simply  in  the  outspread  and  unveiled  universe,  that  we  shall 
behold  the  evidences  of  His  wisdom,  the  unsearchableness  of 
His  goodness,  and  the  glory  of  His  power ;  but  also  in  all 
the  great  and  small  events  which  enter  into  our  personal 
history. 


388  PRESENT   AND   FUTURE   HOME, 

But  in  the  volume  of  Providence  are  also  registered  the 
histories  of  all  those  men  and  nations,  whom  Almighty  power 
made  instrumental  in  carrying  out  the  purposes  of  redemp- 
tion. It  will  reveal  the  amazing  fact,  that  a  sleepless  Provi- 
dence presided  over  all  the  physical,  intellectual,  and  moral 
forces  which  were  active  in  fashioning  the  history  of  this 
earth,  and  of  the  human  race.  So  that,  while  men  ascribed 
the  distinction  and  glory  of  nations  and  individuals  to  their 
own  skill  and  genius,  and  the  misfortunes  and  ruin  of  others 
to  opposite  causes,  the  unseen  power  of  Jehovah  was  the 
dominant  force  among  the  elements  w^hich  made  up  the 
history  of  redeemed  humanity.  For  "  the  Lord  hath  estab- 
lished His  throne  in  the  heavens,  and  His  kingdom  ruleth 
over  all.''  And  from  that  exalted  position  He  surveys  all 
things.  His  ear  hears  all  the  whispers  in  the  secret  cabinets 
of  the  Kings  and  rulers  of  this  world,  and  His  eye  beholds 
every  rising  purpose  in  all  those  hearts  which  are  beating 
over  our  earth,  and  whenever  and  wherever  He  sees  any 
attempt,  or  plan,  to  counterwork  the  purposes  of  His  govern- 
ment, He  utters  the  command  from  His  throne  —  "Be  still, 
and  know  that  I  am  God,  I  will  be  exalted  among  the 
heathens,  I  will  be  exalted  in  the  earth."  And  before  the 
power  of  that  will,  thrones  fall,  kings  expire,  and  nations 
perish.  And  it  is  not  an  arbitrary  and  tyrannic  rule  which 
His  Providence  exercises  over  all  things.  But  as  the  Maker 
and  Preserver  of  all,  the  great  Proprietor  v.ho  has  reared  this 
immense  material  fabric,  beautified  it  with  a  rare  excellence, 
and  filled  it  with    immortal    beings.  He    superintends   and 


PRESENT  AND  FUTURE  HOME.  389 

controls  the  world  and  all  His  creatures  in  such  a  manner, 
that  as  a  whole,  it  may  reflect  the  glory  of  His  perfections, 
and  contribute  to  the  everlasting  happiness  of  His  righteous 
and  intelligent  creatures.  And,  therefore,  all  those  things 
obscurely  visible  here,  will  become  manifest  in  heaven,  and 
form  exalted  themes  of  praise  and  glory.  No  volume  will 
ever  possess  richer  materials  for  meditation,  or  profounder 
exhibitions  of  the  omniscience,  omnipotence,  omnipresence, 
and  infinite  mercy  of  Jehovah ;  and  there  can  be  no  question, 
that  the  sparkling  multitudes  who  encircle  the  eternal  throne, 
will  be  indebted  to  the  records  of  this  book,  for  many  of 
their  loftiest  and  sweetest  strains. 

In  addition  to  these  sources  of  happiness  in  the  Christian's 
future  home,  there  are  yet  more  exalted  elements  of  glory  in 
the  occupations  of  saints.  The  mysteries  of  redemption  will 
engage  their  highest  efforts,  and  ravish  their  souls  with  their 
holiest  raplures.  All  things  else  which  are  tributary  to  the 
happiness  of  the  righteous  are  secondary  to  the  work  of 
redemption.  That  scheme  of  mercy  will  stand  out  alone 
amid  all  the  stupendous  trophies  of  the  infinite  mind,  and 
will  be  invested  with  a  sublime  grandeur  peculiarly  its  own 
—  clothed  with  such  an  overwhelming  effulgence  of  Divine 
love,  that  it  will  be  as  marked,  distinct,  and  flaming  among  all 
the  other  works  of  God,  as  the  sun  in  his  noon-day  splendor; 
and  the  lustre  of  all  others  will  fade  away  in  the  superior  glory 
of  the  work  of  redeeming  mercy.  And  then,  v>ith  enlarged 
and  perfected  capacities,  our  conceptions  of  the  evil  of  sin,  and 
the  depths  into  which  it  had  plunged  us,  will  be  clearer;  and, 
33* 


390  PRESENT    AND    FUTUlCE    HOME. 

therefore,  the  greatness  of  a  Saviour's  compassion  and  a 
Redeemer's  love,  which  elevated  us  to  a  blessed  irammortal- 
ity,  will  be  better  appreciated  than  now.  And  as  we  survey 
the  infinite  dimensions  of  the  "length,  and  breadth,  and 
height,  and  depth  of  the  love  of  Christ,"  our  .souls  will 
exult  amid  the  wonders  of  the  New  Jerusalem  ;  and  while 
we  raise  our  ascriptions  of  praise  to  Him,  and  join  our  fellow- 
heirs  of  that  glorious  inheritance  in  the  shout,  "  Worthy  is 
the  Lamb !"  there  will  be  such  inflows  of  His  glory  into  the 
channels  of  our  being  as  to  fill  us  with  all  the  *'  fullness  of 
God." 

But  it  is  also  proper  to  observe,  if  we  would  rise  to  a  just 
conception  of  the  blessedness  of  the  saints,  that  their  holy 
natures  will  be  susceptible  of  infinite  progress,  and  of  ex- 
pansion without  limit.  Progression  is  a  law  of  our  spiritual 
being.  As  the  power  of  motion  which  the  Creator  has 
imparted  to  the  physical  universe  is  a  law  which  must  always 
remain  in  force  so  long  as  the  perfection  of  that  organism 
shall  continue,  so  is  progress  of  the  mind  a  law  coexistent 
and  coenduring  with  the  mind  itself.  It  is  written  upon  all 
the  intellectual  and  moral  faculties  of  the  soul ;  and  they  are 
destined  to  rise  from  one  height  of  excellence  to  another 
through  all  eternity.  0,  ray  soul !  what  a  prospect  there  is 
before  thee !  for  there  is  a  moment  in  thy  future  history,  if 
ransomed  by  a  Saviour's  blood  and  sanctified  by  the  Holy 
Spirit,  when  thou  shalt  occupy  that  exalted  position  of  excel- 
lence which  now  marks  the  progress  of  the  archangel  nearest 
the  throne  of  the  eternal  Godhead!     What  a  sublime  destiny 


PRESENT   AND   FUTURE   HOME,  391 

does  eternity  open  up  to  the  sanctified !  The  eye  of  faith 
may  peer  onward  as  through  ten  thousand  heavens,  and  see 
one  series  after  another  of  increasing  and  overwhelming 
glories  rising  along  its  path  ;  for  with  God  as  the  source  and 
centre,  and  eternity  as  the  circle  and  range  of  our  happiness, 
we  can  only  find  fitting  utterance  of  its  vastness  in  the 
language  of  inspiration,  "  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard, 
neither  have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  the  things  which 
God  has  prepared  for  them  v.ho  love  hira."  This  view 
gives  us  a  faint  idea  of  the  meaning  of  those  lofty  ex- 
pressions in  relation  to  that  blessed  world,  "  a  weight  of 
glory,"  "  an  exceeding  weight  of  glory,"  "  an  exceeding  and 
eternal  weight  of  glory." 

And  this  brings  us  to  the  last  feature  of  our  heavenly 
home,  and  that  is,  its  perpetuity.  It  will  abide  forever  —  it 
is  eternal.  This  is  its  crowning  excellence.  That  which 
greatly  depreciates  the  value  of  the  most  desirable  earthly 
possessions,  and  honors,  and  distinctions,  is  their  liability  to 
pass  away ;  yea,  the  inevitable  destruction  which  awaits  them. 
Decay  and  death  are  imprinted  upon  all  things.  Among  the 
properties  which  enter  into  the  constitution  of  earthly  objects, 
we  neither  find  permanence  nor  indestructibility.  God  has 
impressed  mutability  upon  all  the  works  of  man.  No 
magnificent  city  that  he  has  built,  no  stately  pile  nor  towering 
pyramid  which  his  genius  has  planned  and  his  industr}'  has 
executed,  but  hath  either  crumbled  into  a  heap  of  ruins,  or 
has  upon  it  the  marks  of  decay.  No,  not  the  most  costly 
and  durabh;  monument  of  marble  or  of  brass  will  remain 


392  PRESENT    AND    FUTURE    HOME. 

exempt  from  this  inevitable  doom.  Man  himself  is  an  illus- 
tration of  this  frailty  of  human  things  ;  "  for  his  days  are  as 
the  grass,  as  a  flower  of  the  field  he  flourisheth  ;  for  the  wind 
passeth  over  it,  and  it  is  gone,  and  the  place  that  knew  it 
shall  know  it  no  more  forever."  "  Our  fathers,  where  are 
they?"  "And  the  prophets,  do  they  live  forever?"  Alas! 
what  millions  have  gone  dow^n  into  the  tomb,  and  what 
precious  treasures  does  the  earth  hold  over  to  the  resurrection 
morn !  Look  we  at  our  firesides  and  households ;  our 
families  are  growing  less. 

"Friend  after  friend  departs, 
Who  has  not  lost  a  friend !" 

The  most  lovely  and  happily-conditioned  family  has  ger- 
minating within  it,  the  seeds  of  death  and  dissolution.  But 
the  Christian  dies  but  once,  and  dying,  lives  forever.  Bless- 
ed be  God !  we  can  stand  by  our  deserted  family  altars,  and 
desolate  hearths,  and  look  up  to  our  future  glorious  home, 
already  occupied  by  our  sainted  friends,  and  rejoice,  that 
decay  and  blight  never  fall  upon  the  Christian's  home  in 
heaven. 

"  No  chilling  winds,  nor  poisonous  breath, 
Can  reach  that  healthful  shore  ; 
Sickness  and  sorrow,  pain  and  death, 
Are  felt  and  feared  no  more  !" 

No,  it  is  permanent.  Its  foundations  are  laid  in  the  im- 
mutability of  Jehovah  —  its  walls  are  immortality,  its  gates 
praise,  and  its  day  eternity.  There  it  stands  in  its  peerless 
glory,  the  metropolis  of  the  universe,  luminous  w'ith  the  light 
of  God  and  the  lamb.    And  amid  all  the  changes  which  may 


PRESENT   AND   FUTURE   HOME.  393 

sweep  with  desolating  power  over  thrones  and  kingdoms,  it 

wi.l  stand  radiant  with  salvation,  and  remain  unshaken  and 

unimpaired,  amid  — 

"  The  wreck  of  matter 
And  the  crash  of  worlds." 

Blessed  city  of  God !  Glorious  home  of  my  departed  !  may 
my  step  never  falter  while  I  tread  the  road  to  thee !  May 
my  efforts  never  be  relaxed  to  make  my  calling  and  election 
sure,  until  safely  sheltered  within  thy  walls ! 

And  may  not  those  who  have  furnished  inmates  for  that 
glorious  home  —  who  have  watched  by  the  pillow^  of  the 
dying  whom  they  loved,  until  their  spirits  took  wing  for  that 
place  of  rest,  derive  comfort  from  the  assurance  that  they  are 
supremely  blest!  0!  you  would  not,  if  you  could,  my 
bereaved  brother,  or  sister,  silence  one  of  the  harps  of  heaven 
by  bringing  back  the  spirit  whose  hand  sw'eeps  it  to  the 
praise  of  the  Redeemer!  Nay,  the  more  you  contemplate 
the  glory  of  that  home,  and  the  blessedness  of  its  occupants, 
the  more  you  will  become  reconciled  to  the  most  painful 
bereavements ;  while  the  hope  of  entering  there,  will  excite 
you  to  unremitted  diligence  to  obtain  that  purity  of  heart, 
without  which,  we  cannot  see  God.  Aged  disciple,  thou  art 
near  thy  home,  and  0  !  such  a  home  !  Labor  patiently,  thou 
man  of  toil,  pray  fervently,  and  wait  calmly,  for  thy  redemp- 
tion draweth  nigh !  Weary,  afflicted,  desolate  one,  drink  the 
cup  which  a  father's  hand  gives,  for  thy  night  of  sorrow  is  fast 
passing  away;  for  behold,  the  dawn  of  an  eternal  day  of 
glory  is  now  breaking  upon  thy  clouds.     God  grant  that  all 


394  PRESENT    AND    FUTURE    HOME. 

of  US  may  set  a  proper  estimate  upon  the  realities  of  a  coming 
eternity.  And  may  He,  "  who  worketh  within  us  according  to 
His  own  pleasure,"  kindle  in  our  bosoms  an  ardent  longing 
for  that  blessed  abode,  that  while  threading  our  weary  pil- 
grimage through  this  world,  we  may  cause  the  vale  of  our 
humiliation  to  resound  with  these  earnest  breathings  of  the 
home-sick  soul. 

"  Jerusalem!  my  happy  home  ! 
When  shall  I  come  to  thee? 
When  shall  my  sorrows  have  an  end  ? 
Thy  joys  when  shall  I  see? 

0 !  happy  harbor  of  the  saints, 

0  !  sweet  and  pleasant  soil ; 
In  thee  no  sorrow  may  be  found, 

No  grief,  no  care,  no  toil. 

Jerusalem !  Jerusalem ! 

God  grant  I  once  may  see 
Thy  endless  joys,  and  of  the  same 

Partaker,  aye,  to  be. 

Thy  walls  are  made  of  precious  stones, 

Thy  bulwarks  diamonds  square, 
Thy  gates  are  of  right  orient  pearl. 

Exceeding  rich  and  rare. 

Ah,  my  sweet  home,  Jerusalem ! 

Would  God  I  were  in  thee ; 
Would  God  my  woes  were  at  an  end, 

Thy  joys  that  I  might  see. 

Thy  saints  are  crowned  with  glory  great, 

They  see  God  face  to  face ; 
They  triumph  still,  they  still  rejoice. 

Most  happy  in  their  case. 


PRESENT   AND    FUTURE   HOME.  395 

Quite  through  the  streets  -with  silver  sound, 

The  flood  of  life  doth  flow ; 
Upon  whose  banks,  on  every  side, 

The  wood  of  life  doth  grow. 

There  trees  forevermore  bear  fruit, 

And  evei-more  do  spring; 
There  saints  and  angels  ever  sit, 

And  evermore  do  sing. 

Jerusalem !  my  happy  home  ! 

AVould  God  I  were  in  thee ! 
Would  God  my  woes  were  at  an  end. 

Thy  joys  that  I  might  see." 

May  such  be  the  aspirations  of  our  minds,  and  such  the 
song  of  our  pilgrimage,  until  the  rays  of  hope  which  gild 
the  distant  horizon  shall  have  melted  into  the  glory  of  perfect 
day,  and  the  joys  which  now  thrill  our  hearts  have  swelled 
into  the  raptures  of  the  redeemed,  and  the  glorious  shout 
echoes  through  the  arches  of  the  Eternal  Palace  —  Home !  — 
Home !  —  Sweet  Heavenly  Home ! 


CHAPTER  NINETEENTH. 

DARKNESS  TURNED  TO  LIGHT,  OR  THE  USES  WE 
SHOULD  MAKE  OF  AFFLICTIONS  AND  BEREAVE- 
MENTS. 


"  Affliction  is  the  ■wholesome  soil  of  virtue, 
Where  patience,  honor,  sweet  humanity, 
Calm  fortitude,  take  root,  and  strongly  flourish." 


There  is  no  evil  whose  ashes  may  not  nourish  seeds  of 
blessing.  The  inundating  flood  and  the  consuming  wave  of 
fire  may  have  swept  away  the  golden  treasures  of  the  field, 
but  they  have  left  a  fertilizing  deposit  to  produce  a  richer 
harvest.  And  so  have  I  seen  the  swelling  floods  of  sorrow, 
and  the  consuming  fires  of  affliction,  leave  the  preparations 
of  a  greater  good  than  they  have  taken.  Having  communed 
with  each  other  around  the  sepulchres  of  our  departed,  I  may 
hope  that  there  is  a  sufficient  degree  of  sympathy  established 
between  us,  to  justify  me  in  addressing  my  readers  on  the 
uses  which  we  should  make  of  afflictive  dispensations.  As  I 
have  passed  years  in  the  school  of  personal  aflfliction,  and 
wept  over  the  dust  of  those  who  were  "  bone  of  my  bone, 

and  flesh  of  my  flesh,"  I  may  perhaps  be  able,  under  the 

(396) 


DARKNESS   TURNED   TO    LIGHT. 


397   ♦ 


guiding  hand  of  the  spirit,  to  lead  others  to  those  sources 
where  my  own  soul  has  gathered  consolation  and  strength. 
This  I  shall  endeavor  to  do,  by  a  statement  of  the  views 
which  we  should  take  of  these  dispensations. 

And  first  of  all,  it  is  important  to  remember  that  God  is  in 
our  afflictions  and  bereavements.  His  will  determines  them, 
and  His  hand  brings  them  to  pass.  It  is  not  a  blind  chance 
that  checkers  our  life  with  joys  and  sorrows.  Neither  are 
those  changes  incident  to  the  relations  we  sustain  to  others, 
simply  the  results  of  secondary  causes  acting  in  conjunction 
with  our  constitutional  organization ;  for  even  those  law^s  of 
mutation  to  which  all  material  things  are  subjected,  can  only 
remain  in  active  force,  and  accomplish  tlieir  end,  as  long  as 
they  are  vitally  connected  with  that  Almighty  power,  whose 
energy  fills  and  animates  all  things.  God  is,  therefore, 
accomplishing  His  purposes  concerning  us  and  our  families 
through  these  instrumentalities,  and  may  consequently  be 
regarded  as  the  author  of  our  bereavements  in  all  cases  where 
persons  have  not,  from  choice,  been  the  procurers  of  their 
own  sickness,  by  a  violation  of  the  laws  of  their  being. 
But  we  should  also  remember,  that  when  God  bereaves  it  is 
with  a  wise  design.  It  is  not  a  blind  stroke,  or  a  random 
blow,  which  prostrates  the  tabernacle  of  an  immortal  being. 
And  as  He  afflicts  not  because  he  is  cruel  and  delights  in  our 
distress,  but  out  of  love  and  for  our  profit,  we  should  always 
expect  to  derive  a  greater  ultimate  good  than  that  which  we 
forfeit  by  calamity.  And  this  we  may  do,  even  when  deprived 
of  our  most  cherished  friends,  if  we  improve  the  chastenings 
34 


„398  DARKNESS   TURNED   TO    LIGHT. 

of  the  Lord  to  the  enlargement  and  correctness  of  our  views 
of  His  character  and  governmerrt,  of  life  and  death,  of 
time  and  eternity.  God  comes  in  these  dispensations  as  a 
Sovereign,  and  by  the  sickness,  the  circumstances,  and  the 
time  when  He  removes  a  friend,  He  announces  the  fact  that 
"  no  one  can  stay  His  hand,  or  say  unto  Him,  what  doest 
thou  ?"  Said  a  weeping  mother  to  me,  who  had  lost  a  child 
—  "I  could  not  bear  it,  did  I  not  see  the  finger  of  God  in 
this  affliction."  But  it  was  not  simply  a  correct  view  of  His 
Sovereignty  which  gives  Him  an  absolute  right  to  all  His 
creatures,  to  dispose  of  them  according  to  His  pleasure ;  but 
this  attribute  associated  with  those  other  perfections  which 
make  up  His  character,  that  sustained  her  in  the  hour  of 
tribulation.  She  knew  that  He  was  a  God  of  infinite  wisdom, 
and,  therefore,  capable  of  directing  all  things  aright,  and  of 
immeasurable  goodness,  and  that,  consequently.  His  infallible 
mind  saw  that  it  was  for  the  good  of  the  child,  for  the  happi- 
ness of  the  parents,  and  the  glory  of  His  name,  that  He 
removed  it  to  eternity.  And  it  is  not  difficult  to  become 
thoroughly  convinced  that  He  is  worthy  of  such  confidence 
and  trust  at  all  times.  But  to  feel  this,  we  must  look  up  and 
see  Him  seated  on  His  exalted  throne,  clothed  in  all  those 
Divine  attributes  which  are  necessary  to  constitute  Him  the 
all-wise  ruler  of  the  universe.  And  we  should  also  know, 
that  it  is  impossible  for  God  to  do  wrong,  for  that  is  infinitely 
foreign  to  His  nature  ;  neither  can  He  be  mistaken  as  to  the 
fitness  of  things,  or  the  opportuneness  of  events,  since  all  time 
and  eternity  lie  open  to  His  inspection,  and  He  sees  all  the 


DARKNESS   TURNED    TO    LIGHT.  399 

results  worked  out  before  He  sets  in  motion  the  cause  that 
produces  them,  and  that,  therefore.  He  acts  not  blindly,  but 
wisely,  when  He  visits  a  family  with  death.  "  Just,  and 
strong,  and  opportune,  is  the  moral  rule  of  God." 

With  such  conceptions  of  the  Divine  character  and 
government,  we  can  cheerfully  acquiesce  in  all  that  His  will 
ordains.  And  here,  then,  we  are  brought  to  the  first  solid 
ground  of  comfort,  and  the  first  permanent  basis  of  good  in 
afflictions,  holy  and  unreserved  submission  to  God.  Peace 
never  visits  the  soul  alarmed  in  view  of  its  sinfulness,  until  it 
bows  in  unconditional  surrender  to  heaven  ;  and  light  breaks 
not  in  upon  the  mind  laboring  under  dark  calamities,  until  it 
admits  and  feels  that  it  is  God's  prerogative  to  bestow 
such  comforts,  or  to  withdraw  such  blessings  as  the  counsel 
of  His  will  determines  best  suited  to  secure  our  happiness 
and  to  promote  His  glory.  Throw  yourself  upon  His  bosom, 
as  the  distressed  child  does  upon  that  of  its  mother,  and  He 
will  comfort  you.  We  must  not  attempt  to  fly  from  God,  but 
rush  to  His  embrace,  that  His  everlasting  arms  may  encircle 
us,  and  shield  us  from  dangers.  A  soul  is  never  so  lovely  in 
the  sight  of  God  as  when  it  kneels  in  humility  at  His  throne, 
and  breathes  the  prayer  v>hich  came  from  heaven,  "  Thy  will 
be  done!"  God  loves  to  hear  that  prayer  from  the  creatures 
\s-hora  He  governs ;  for  although  too  feeble  to  contend  with 
the  Eternal,  or  war  against  His  providence,  they  may  have 
strength,  and  peace,  and  glory,  by  submitting  to  His  will. 
"  Thou  shalt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace  whose  mind  is  staid 
on  thee."     "Who  is  among  you  that  feareth  the  Lord,  that 


400  DARKNESS    TURNED    TO    LIGHT. 

obeyeth  the  voice  of  his  servant,  that  walketh  in  darkness 
and  hath  no  light?  Let  him  trust  in  the  name  of  the  Lord, 
and  stay  upon  his  God.'^ 

Seeing,  then,  that  God  moves  in  these  calamities,  and  that 
they  come  with  a  wise  design,  we  should  further  inquire 
what  lessons  he  wishes  to  impress  upon  our  minds.  How 
shall  we  interpret  the  language  of  His  providence  ?  He 
comes  to  us  robed  in  dispensations  which  make  His  presence 
awfully  solemn.  I  should  regard  it  as  a  thing  of  infinite 
moment  to  be  placed  in  such  circumstances.  And  I  should 
carefully  inquire  what  God  means  to  teach  me  in  reference  to 
myself.  Do  I  not  hear  His  voice  addressing  me  from  that 
silent  coffin  in  my  house,  and  from  that  shrouded  slumberer, 
"  Be  ye  also  ready  ?"  Ready  for  what  ?  For  thy  transi- 
tion from  time  to  eternity,  my  soul ;  to  meet  death,  to  die 
happy  and  hopeful,  and  to  enter  into  the  presence  of  thy 
Judge.  And  O,  what  a  solemn  lesson  have  I  here  to  learn ! 
what  a  momentous  question  must  I  decide  !  Am  I  ready  to 
die .''  Have  I  made  the  needful  preparation  ?  Am  I  clothed  in 
the  robe  of  Divine  righteousness?  Am  I  justified,  and  have 
I  peace  with  God  through  the  Lord  Jesus?  0  my  God!  help 
me  to  deal  honeslty  with  my  own  soul.  Lord  Jesus,  aid  me 
in  this  business  of  my  salvation!  Eternal  Spirit,  descend 
into  the  council-chamber  of  my  heart,  that  I  may  act  with 
Thy  wisdom  when  I  sit  in  judgment  upon  the  great,  the 
tremendous  interests  of  my  immortality,  O  my  soul !  awake 
thou  to  a  just  sense  of  thy  condition  and  state  before  God. 
It  is  not  a  matter  of  small  moment  whether  thou  shalt  eter- 


DARKNESS    TURNED    TO    LIGHT.  401 

nally  rejoice  m  glory,  or  weep  in  hell.  Thou  art  not  a  worth- 
less trinket,  0  my  soul !  The  wealth  of  the  universe  was  too 
poor  to  purchase  thee  ;  the  atoning  blood  of  the  Son  of  God 
bespeaks  thy  value.  Thou  shalt  live  forever.  To  thee 
eternity  is  no  trifle  ;  for  thy  capacities  shall  forever  swell  and 
overflow  with  heaven's  raptures,  or  labor  with  eternal  woes. 
O  my  soul !  the  thought  is  startling ;  it  is  oppressive ;  it 
gathers  within  it  the  energies  of  eternity ;  it  flames  and 
breathes  whh  endless  anguish  —  thou  mayst  be  lost!  Shut 
out  of  heaven,  and  confined  in  dark  despair!  The  unquench- 
able fire  may  roll  its  consuming  waves  through  the  channels 
of  thy  being !  The  undying  death-worm  may  writhe  as 
a  wounded  monster  in  thy  halls  of  memory !  and  conscience 
cause  thee  to  utter  woes  wide  and  deep  as  eternity!  But, 
must  thou  be  lost  ?  must  a  dark  and  cheerless  future  be  thy 
portion  ?  It  must  not,  it  will  not,  be  thy  doom,  if  thou 
harden  not  thyself  to  reject  the  overtures  of  mercy.  If  thou 
wilt  hear  the  voice  of  God  and  obey  it ;  if  thou  wilt  fly  for 
life  to  the  death  of  Jesus,  and  for  shelter  from  the  storms 
of  sin  and  affliction  to  the  Rock  of  ages,  cleft  to  make 
for  us  a  hiding-place  from  a  guilty  conscience  and  the 
wrath  of  God,  thou  mayest  live  ! 

From  myself  may  I  turn  to  you  who  peruse  these  pages, 
and  speak  kindly  but  earnestly  to  you,  touching  your  salva- 
tion. Afflictions  form  an  important  element  among  the 
means  used  in  God's  economy,  for  the  awakening  and 
saving  of  the  soul.  Trials  appropriately  used  will  tend  to 
the  sanctification  of  saints;  and  bereavements  properly 
34* 


402  DARKNESS    TURNED    TO    LIGHT. 

regarded  will  utter  voices  of  warning  to  the  unconverted. 
But  persons  are  not  always  converted  when  they  are  afflicted  ; 
the  reason  why  these  trials  are  not  always  effectual  in  lead- 
ing to  regeneration,  is,  because  they  are  not  used  as  God 
designs  they  should  be.  If  an  individual  is  not  in  a  state  of 
reconciliation  with  heaven,  when  he  is  brought  under  afflic- 
tion, he  should  regard  it  as  a  messenger  from  God's  throne, 
sent  on  a  special  mission  to  him.  It  says  to  him  —  "  Behold 
I  stand  at  the  door  and  knock."  "  Set  thy  house  in  order." 
"  It  is  appointed  unto  man  once  to  die,  and  after  that  the 
judgment."  Be  ready  for  your  departure.  And  if  this 
messenger  has  come  to  you  darkly  robed  as  he  is,  and  pain- 
ful as  may  be  the  intelligence  he  bears,  give  him  a  patient 
hearing.  Let  your  soul  ponder  his  lessons,  and  give  itself  to 
serious  reflection.  Let  your  eye  run  over  the  past,  and  also 
look  searchingly  within.  Open  your  Bible  and  learn  the  true 
cause  of  your  suffering.  Ascribe  not  the  calamity  to  second- 
ary causes,  for  there  is  one  behind  these  who  orders  and 
controls  them.  Behold  God  in  your  afflictions,  and  recog- 
nize in  them  His  hand  inflicting  his  displeasure  against  sin. 
Let  the  holy  book  unfold  to  you  His  character,  while  in  it 
as  a  mirror  you  see  your  own  reflected.  Take  a  view  of  the 
extent  and  purity  of  the  Divine  law  ;  —  how  it  is  a  discerner 
of  the  thoughts,  and  lays  its  authority  upon  the  intents  of  the 
heart.  See  its  right  to  marshal  outward  action  under  its 
control,  and  command  the  inward  homage  of  the  soul  to  God. 
Study  your  delinquencies,  and  soon  shalt  thou  discover  that 
thine  iniquities  are  infinite.     Ponder  the  description  which 


DARKNESS   TURNED   TO   LIGHT.  403 

Paul  gives  of  the  unregeaerate  in  Ephesians.  "  Without 
Christ,  ahens  from  the  commonweaUh  of  Israel,  strangers 
from  the  covenants  of  promise,  without  hope  and  without 
God  in  the  world."  And  such  is  the  condition  of  all  those 
who  have  not  yet  acknowledged  "  Christ  the  power  of  God, 
and  the  wisdom  of  God,  to  salvation."  "  Who  have 
not  been  born  of  water  and  the  spirit,  and  become  new 
creatures  in  Christ  Jesus."  If  you  belong  to  this  class, 
reflect  for  a  moment  on  the  several  aspects  assigned  to  the 
sinner's  state,  "  Without  Christ,"  Then  you  are  cut  off 
from  God's  favor,  and  you  are  destitute  of  holiness,  "  without 
which  no  one  sees  the  Lord."  A  branch  separated  from  the 
parent  stem  has  no  quickening  and  sustaining  power.  It 
must  wither  and  die.  The  soul  out  of  Christ  is  barren  of  all 
good,  and  devoid  of  spiritual  life.  You  have  then  no  peace, 
for  "  out  of  Christ,  God  is  a  consuming  fire."  Then  you 
cannot  run  to  Him  as  your  "strong  tower"  which  shelters 
from  earthly  calamities  and  the  retributions  of  eternity.  You 
should,  therefore,  suffer  your  afflictions  and  bereavements  to 
lead  you  to  the  feet  of  the  Saviour.  Come  to  Him,  and 
bring  with  you  a  broken  heart  and  a  contrite  spirit,  and  He 
will  give  you  rest,  comfort,  and  hope.  None  other  can  help 
you,  and  defend  you.  And  if  you  remain  without  Him,  what 
will  you  do  in  soul-troubles  ?  What  will  you  do  when  your 
own  tabernacle  is  falling  to  pieces,  and  your  soul  is  required  .'' 
What  will  you  do  for  an  advocate  when  you  come  to  the 
judgment?  You  cannot  plead  your  own  cause,  "for  every 
mouth  will    be    stopped  and    the  whole  world  stand  guilty 


404  DARKNESS    TURNED    TO    LIGHT. 

before  God."  What  will  you  do.  amid  the  fires  of  the  last 
great  day,  amid  crashing  worlds,  and  a  dissolving  universe, 
when  the  crucified  One  will  be  the  only  refuge  of  the  soul  ? 
Ponder  these  things  while  affliction  marshals  before  your  mind 
the  great  realities  of  a  boundless  future. 

But  if  unconverted,  then  you  are  also  an  alien  from  God's 
spiritual  commonwealth,  and  have  no  claim  to  His  protection 
and  blessing.  The  foreigner  cannot  rightfully  expect  the 
privileges  and  blessings  of  citizenship,  until  after  his  adoption 
as  a  member  of  this  confederacy.  And  can  we  ask  less  for 
the  kingdom  of  Jesus,  than  we  do  for  a  human  governuient  ? 
Shall  we  approbate  the  ordinance  in  the  human,  and  repro- 
bate the  same  rule  in  the  Divine  ?  If  not,  then  as  a  spiritual 
alien,  you  can  set  up  no  claim  to  God's  care  and  blessing. 
Not  one  of  the  promises  which  gem  the  sacred  page  can  be 
yours,  until  adopted  into  God's  family,  and  until  you  have 
become  a  child  and  heir  of  heaven.  For  if  not  born  again, 
then  you  are  a  "  stranger  from  the  covenants,"  in  which  the 
Lord  engages  to  defend,  and  keep,  and  bless  us.  And  in 
your  distress,  no  one  has  authority  to  apply  to  you  the  promise 
—  "the  eternal  God  is  thy  refuge,  and  the  everlasting  arms 
are  underneath  you."  Nor  yet  say  to  you  ;  "  Cast  thy  burden 
upon  the  Lord  and  He  will  sustain  you."  It  would  be  un- 
faithfulness to  God  to  console  with  His  promises,  those  who 
still  refuse  to  sue  for  His  mercy  ;  and  it  would  do  injury  to 
the  soul  to  bind  it  up  with  any  other  balm,  but  that  of  Gilead. 
We  must  not  cry  peace,  where  there  is  no  peace ;  but 
admonish  the  soul  to  enter  into  the  way  of  reconciliation  with 


DARKNESS    TURNED    TO    LIGHT.  405 

heaven  But  the  condition  of  the  unregenerate  is  still  more 
melancholy,  for  he  is  "  a  stranger."  A  stranger  to  grace,  to 
purity,  to  hope.  A  stranger's  condition  is  sad.  When 
wandering  through  distant  climes,  surrounded  by  the  living 
throngs  of  populous  cities,  or  amid  the  varied  and  rich 
scenery  of  nature,  everywhere  and  at  all  times  there  is  a  sense 
of  loneliness  hanging  about  his  heart.  And  so,  also,  is  he 
who  is  estranged  from  God  conscious  of  an  inward  and 
aching  void.  It  is  sad  when  the  stranger  falls  sick  in  a 
strange  land,  in  a  strange  house,  and  meets  death  far  away 
from  the  sweet  influences  of  home.  O  God  !  how  hard  it  is 
to  die  alone !  to  have  no  hand  of  affection  to  wipe  the  death- 
drops  from  the  brow,  no  sympathizing  friend  to  cool  the 
parched  tongue  and  gently  smooth  his  passage  from  this 
world.  But  what  will  it  be  to  die  without  the  gracious 
presence  of  God?  To  have  no  reconciled  Father  to  put  His 
arm  beneath  the  sinking  soul,  no  Spirit  to  comfort,  no  Saviour 
to  go  with  him  through  the  dark  valley  —  O!  this  is  the 
painful  end  of  him  who  has  no  interest  m  "  the  covenants  of 
promise."  And  truly  melancholy  is  the  stranger's  funeral ; 
a  rude  cofEn  receives  the  shroudless  corpse  ;  a  few  follow  to 
the  potter's  field,  where  his  remains  are  committed  to  earth, 
without  one  tear  of  affection  to  embalm  his  ashes.  But  who 
could  picture  the  disposal  of  the  soul  that  passed  in  its 
estrangement  from  God  into  eternity  ?  Eternal  Mercy  !  what 
are  the  funeral  obsequies  of  a  lost  soul  ?  Shrouded  in  living- 
flame,  and  buried  in  bottomless  perdition  ! 

But  the  impenitent  are  "  without  hope  and  without  God  in 


406  DARKNESS   TURNED    TO   LIGHT. 

the  world."  Another  touch  of  darkness  to  the  picture  of 
impenitency.  No  star  of  hope  to  shine  in  a  dark  sky,  to  com- 
fort in  sorrow,  and  to  sustain  in  death.  No  reconciled  God. 
Living  without  God,  is  to  live  beyond  the  circle  of  His  smiles, 
and  the  range  of  His  favors.  And  is  it  not  a  lamentable  state  to 
be  found  in,  when  God  sends  death  into  the  family  ?  To  have 
no  heavenly  Father  to  go  to,  and  no  compassionate  Saviour  to 
share  our  burdens  aiid  woes  ?  And  yet  this  spiritual  aliena- 
tion from  heaven,  and  this  comfortless  state  of  the  soul,  is  all 
the  result  of  our  choice.  For  in  the  dawn  of  life  did  the 
Lord  already  approach  you,  loaded  with  rare  blessings,  and 
say,  "  Those  that  seek  me  early  shall  find  me."  And  behold 
how  all  along  your  path  there  gleamed  the  light  of  His  favor. 
Along  the  road  of  life  did  He  station  heralds  to  warn  and  to 
invite  you  to  become  partakers  of  the  great  salvation.  Every 
day  there  came  on  swift  wing  bright  blessings  from  a  Father's 
throne,  mingled  with  a  voice  from  the  bleeding  Jesus  on  the 
cross,  uttering  the  invitation,  "  Look  unto  me  and  be  ye 
saved,"  while  the  Spirit  ever  pointed  in  the  way  to  happiness 
and  to  God,  and  whispered  "  This  is  the  way,  walk  ye  in 
it."  And  after  all  these  admonitions  produced  no  effect,  and 
the  droppings  of  the  sanctuary  neither  softened  nor  awakened 
the  heart,  and  when  Jesus  had  stood  knocking  at  your  door 
until  his  locks  were  w^et  with  dew,  and  could  not  gain  admis- 
sion into  the  soul  for  which  He  had  agonized  and  bled.  His 
amazing  love  was  not  yet  exhausted,  and  He  came  in  your 
bereavements  to  cut  the  cords  which  bound  your  affections  to 
the    dust,  and   carried  your  treasure   to   heaven,  that  your 


DARKNESS   TURNED   TO   LIGHT.  407 

hearts  might  follow  it  there.  The  kind  parent  does  not 
always  find  the  gentlest  means  the  most  efficient  to  mould  the 
character  of  a  beloved  child ;  and  thus,  also,  may  our 
heavenly  Father  reverse  the  current  of  our  affections  from 
earth  to  heaven,  by  taking  to  Himself  one  who  had  been  en- 
shrined in  our  hearts.  Very  beautifully  does  Tholuck  remark, 
"  Is  it  not  true  that  when  the  sun  shines  upon  us,  and  we  feel 
its  gentle  warmth  in  our  life,  we  become  indifferent  to  its 
mild  beams,  and  do  not  so  much  as  ask,  whence  comes  the 
pleasant  light  ?  Because  it  is  grateful  to  our  feelings,  we 
think  that  it  is  a  matter  of  course.  If  any  one  says  this  is 
the  work  of  God,  it  is  said  in  mere  formality .  Not  until  the 
tempest  comes  which  we  dread,  do  we  look  around  us  and 
inquire,  whence  comes  this  ?"  0,  should  you  then,  dear  reader, 
find  yourself  in  an  unrenewed  state  in  the  midst  of  your  afflic- 
tions and  bereavements,  hasten  at  once,  and  with  a  penitent 
heart,  to  your  Redeemer.  A  tear  of  penitence,  shed  by  a  stricken 
soul,  is,  in  His  sight,  a  brighter  jewel  than  any  of  the  gems 
with  which  the  azure  vault  is  studded  ;  for  that  tear  will  draw 
upon  it  the  eyes  of  God  and  His  angels,  and  all  heaven  will 
turn  to  look  upon  the  penitent,  while  the  news  rolls  through 
the  armies  of  the  sky,  "  Behold  he  prayeth."  Many  motives 
might  be  offered  to  the  consideration  of  the  afflicted  for  an 
immediate  consecration  to  God.  It  is  a  solemn  duty.  "  God 
commands  men  every  where  to  repent."  And  He  has  a  right 
to  issue  this  requirement ;  and  every  moment  that  we  live  in 
sin,  we  pour  contempt  upon  His  authority,  and  breathe  defi- 
ance at  the  threatenings  v'hich  come  clothed  with  omnipotence. 


408  DARKNESS    TURNED    TO    LIGHT. 

All  the  great  interests  associated  with  the  present  and  the 
future  call  for  immediate  reconciliation  with  God,  And  His 
goodness  and  mercy  of  w^hich  we  are  the  undeserving 
recipients  demand  a  cessation  of  this  warfare  with  the 
Eternal.  Is  it  not  enough  that  so  much  of  our  time  has  been 
prostituted  upon  subordinate,  if  not  base  things  ?  Not  enough 
that  we  have  so  long  injured  our  God,  and  crucified  afresh  the 
Lord  Jesus?  Is  it  so  pleasant  to  live  in  self-condemnation, 
and  in  conflict  with  every  principle  of  the  Divine  govern- 
ment? Encircled  with  memorials  of  His  goodness,  and  our- 
selves the  most  amazing  monuments  of  His  forbearance  and 
love,  do  we  remain  unmoved  ?  Is  there  no  flesh  in  these 
hearts?  Alas!  what  blindness  and  hardness  where  men 
remain  unaffected  under  influences  which  should  be  adequate 
to  awaken  the  most  careless,  and  to  melt  the  most  obdurate! 
Sufler  me  to  urge  one  more  consideration,  and  that  is,  the 
great  danger  of  losing  your  soul  if  you  pass  through  severe 
afflictions  and  painful  bereavements  without  a  change  of 
purpose  and  of  heart.  It  is  impossible  not  to  feel  at  all  when 
death  is  at  work  in  the  circle  of  our  friendship.  The  realities 
of  eternity  will  agitate  the  soul,  and  the  stroke  of  death, 
though  it  falls  upon  another,  will  open  the  fountains  of  grief, 
and  awaken  reflection;  so  that,  if  convictions  are  resisted, 
solemn  thoughts  pushed  from  the  mind,  tender  emotions 
turned  out  of  the  heart,  and  all  impressions,  like  marks  upon 
the  sandy  beach,  obliterated  by  the  next  day's  tide  of  excite- 
ment or  business,  there  is  little  hope  left  of  that  individual's 
salvation.     For  it  is  while  the  earth  is  rocked  by  the  thunder, 


DARKNESS   TURNED   TO    LIGHT.  409 

and  the  shower  saturates  the  ground,  that  the  germs  are 
quickened,  and  will  spring  fordi  if  not  resisted  ;  and  thus, 
also,  when  a  storm  of  Providence  startles  the  soul  to  its 
secret  depths,  and  it  is  bathed  with  the  melting  tenderness  of 
a  broken  heart,  the  Holy  Spirit  will  implant  seeds  of  truth, 
which  will  spring  up  into  eternal  life  if  not  crushed  by  an 
obstinate  w'ill.  Such,  then,  is  the  use  which  the  un- 
converted should  make  of  their  bereavements  —  they  should 
make  the  fall  of  a  friend  the  means  of  their  resurrection  unto 
newness  of  life. 

But  the  Christian,  who  has  already  an  interest  in  the 
atoning  sacrifice  of  Christ,  should  also  derive  spiritual  im- 
provement from  such  trials.  He  should  carefully  examine 
the  frames  and  dispositions  of  his  mind  ;  for  even  the  believer 
may  become  worldly-minded,  and  grow  cold  and  formal  in 
the  discharge  of  his  religious  duties.  It  was  spring,  and  I 
heard  the  winged  south  wind  breathing  around  me,  and 
I  saw  the  sunbeams  falling  gently  upon  the  earth,  and 
by  their  soft  caresses  wooing  into  life  many  lovely  and  beauti- 
ful things,  until  the  fields  smiled  and  flowers  bloomed,  and 
forests  were  clad  with  attractive  foliage  ;  but  the  sun  shone 
on  with  increasing  heat  and  brightness,  and  the  air  blew  with 
greater  fervor,  until  the  song  of  the  brook  was  hushed,  and 
the  half-open  flowers  withered  upon  the  stem,  and  all  nature 
lay  parched  and  panting  under  a  burning  sky,  until  clouds 
which  had  been  freighted  by  the  far-off  fountain  and  the 
distant  sea,  came  and  wept  for  pity  upon  that  desolate  scene, 
and  it  was  made  glad,  and  smiled  back  to  the  clouds  which 
35 


410  DARKNESS   TURNED   TO   LIGHT. 

had  overshadowed  and  refreshed  it.  And  so  have  I  seen  the 
child  of  God  entering  upon  the  new  hfe  in  Christ,  and  the 
sun  of  earthly  prosperity  poured  its  light  around  him,  and  the 
graces  of  religion  bloomed  awhile  in  his  heart,  and  his  life 
abounded  with  the  fruits  of  righteousness ;  but  his  successes 
enlarged  and  multiplied  his  cares,  which  choked  the  channels 
and  dried  up  the  streams  of  grace,  until  his  life  was  stripped 
of  all  spiritual  excellence,  and  his  soul  had  leanness  and  was 
panting  in  "  a  dry  and  thirsty  land ;"  and  then  a  merciful 
God  formed  a  tempest  of  calamity  about  him,  which  shot  from 
its  dark  pavilion  the  lightning's  bolt  into  that  mountain  of  his 
strength,  which  had  grown  up  to  such  dimensions  between 
him  and  the  Lord,  that  it  caught  the  descending  dews  of 
grace  that  were  to  nourish  his  spirit,  and  the  mountain  fell, 
and  the  clouds  of  sorrow  euiptied  their  floods  upon  him,  and 
he  cried  out,  "  all  thy  waves  and  thy  billows  are  gone  over 
me."  But  I  looked  again,  and  lo !  he  stood  forth  clothed  in 
the  light  of  his  Father's  countenance,  and  his  piety  was  fresh, 
and  his  hope  cheerful ;  and  I  heard  him  utter  in  sweet  and 
grateful  accents  —  "  Before  I  w^as  afflicted  I  went  astray,  but 
now  I  keep  Thy  word."  "It  was  good  for  me  that  I  was 
afflicted,  that  I  might  learn  Thy  statutes."  "  For  I  know,  O 
Lord,  that  Thy  judgments  are  right,  and  that  Thou  in  faith- 
fulness hast  afflicted  me."  "  Thus  many  shall  be  purified, 
and  made  white,  and  tried." 

But  in  a  matter  of  such  vital  concern  to  the  soul,  and  on 
which  such  momentous  interests  are  pending,  it  will  be  well 
for  us  to  consider  more  particularly  the  advantages  which  the 


DARKNESS    TURNED   TO   LIGUT.  411 

Christian  should  reap  from  afllictions  and  bereavements. 
From  the  moment  of  our  conversion,  we  are  placed  under 
that  moral  discipline  which  the  Infinite  Mind  sees  necessary 
to  the  development  of  that  style  of  character  which  the  Lord 
would  have  us  possess.  Those  immortal  jewels  with  which 
the  crown  of  Jesus  is  to  be  gemmed,  need  grinding  and 
burnishing  rightly  to  reflect  the  excellence  of  His  religion 
here,  and  His  glory  yonder.  A  certain  providential  course 
of  training  is  needed  in  conjunction  with  the  constant  opera- 
tions of  the  Spirit,  to  carry  forward  without  interruption,  the 
work  of  sanctification  towards  its  completion  in  Christ.  For 
all  who  have  any  knowledge  of  their  own  hearts,  are  assured 
that,  even  after  renewing  grace  has  commenced  doing  its 
office,  it  meets  with  many  obstructions  in  its  gracious  work. 
We  are  so  earthly  in  our  dispositions  and  feelings,  and  are 
so  constantly  associated  with  tangible  objects,  that  it  is  only 
by  extraordinary  and  superhuman  influences,  that  our  affec- 
tions can  be  fixed,  abidingly  fixed ^  upon  those  things  which 
are  at  the  right  hand  of  God.  And  even  with  all  our  watch- 
ings  and  struggles  for  freedom  from  worldly  entanglements, 
the  wings  of  the  soul  are  often  trammeled  and  bound  by  the 
network  of  sensual  influences  which  a  world  hostile  to  grace 
throws  around  them.  Even  friends,  companions,  and  chil- 
dren sometimes  usurp  that  sanctuary  in  our  souls,  which 
should  be  filled  with  the  awful  presence  of  Jehovah.  And 
if  we  strive  to  maintain  God's  appropriate  supremacy  in  our 
affections,  the  objects  of  our  human  love  bind  with  strong 
cords  our  spirits  to  the  dust.     And  hence  it  is  for  our  own 


412  DARKNESS   TURNED   TO    LIGHT. 

good  when  God  breaks  these  bonds,  either  by  crushing  the 
idol,  or  by  taking  our  friends  to  himself.  The  Master  is 
intent  upon  weaning  us  from  the  things  around  us,  and  this  is 
never  so  effectually  done  as  when  He  comes  in  sickness  and 
in  death.  It  is  on  such  occasions  that  we  learn  the  lesson, 
that  however  indispensable  these  family  ties  are  to  our 
existence  and  happiness,  they  are  only  the  road  through 
which  we  pass,  and  not  the  end  of  our  being.  Amid  the 
scenes  of  home- desolation,  we  are  impressively  taught  the 
vanity  of  earth,  and  the  worth  of  heaven.  And  if  ever  we  do 
form  a  just  estimate  of  the  shortness  and  value  of  time,  and 
the  greatness  of  eternity,  it  is  while  bearing  the  companions 
of  our  journey  to  their  silent  homes. 

It  should  be  the  holy  determination  of  God's  children  when 
sickness  comes,  to  make  it  and  its  issues  tributary  to  their 
spiritual  good.  For  it  must  be  very  obvious  to  all  who  are 
acquainted  with  the  laws  of  our  being,  and  the  tendencies  of 
afflictions,  that  they  cannot  and  will  not  leave  us  as  they 
found  us.  They  will  make  us  better  or  worse.  They  will 
make  their  subject  humble  or  rebellious  ;  bring  him  nearer  to 
God,  or  drive  him  farther  from  Him.  The  gold,  in  passing 
through  the  furnace,  will  acquire  greater  purity,  and,  there- 
fore, greater  value ;  or  it  will  be  burnt,  and  rendered  worth- 
less. And  so,  also,  the  soul  w'hich  is  not  purified  in  its 
passage  through  the  fires  of  Providence,  will  be  hardened. 
But  if  any  one  should  ask,  what  must  I  do  in  order  to  realize 
the  benefits  which  afflictions  are  fitted  to  produce .''  I  would 
answer,  have  a  care  how  you  enter  the  furnace.     Resolve  in 


DARKNESS    TURNED    TO    LIGHT.  413 

the  beginning  and  on  the  first  tokens  of  approaching  trials, 
that  you  will  bear,  patiently  and  meekly  whatever  the  Lord 
appoints.  Patience  and  meekneps  are  ornaments  of  great 
price  in  the  Christian  character.  Remember  that  you  are  in 
the  hands  of  Almighty  God,  and  that  He  has  a  perfect  right 
to  do  with  you  according  to  His  pleasure.  But  look  upon 
Him,  also,  as  one  possessing  infinite  wisdom,  and  who  is 
absolutely  good,  and,  therefore,  best  qualified  to  determine 
how  long  and  how  severely  you  should  be  tried.  Put  on  the 
Christian  armor,  and  await  the  coming  charge.  Rest  thee 
confidently  on  the  staff  of  His  promises,  and  lay  hold  upon 
His  strength.  Never  allow  even  a  silent  murmur  or  regret  to 
rise  in  your  heart,  and  give  no  place  to  suggestions  of  un- 
belief. If  the  devil  should  tempt  you  with  hard  thoughts  of 
the  Divine  Being,  bid  him  to  get  behind  thee.  If  a  timid 
nature  would  generate  fears,  lean  trustingly  on  Christ.  Satan 
may  tempt  the  child  of  God,  and  tell  him  that  it  is  because 
he  has  no  piety,  and  because  God  does  not  love  him,  that  he 
afflicts  ;  but  this  should  not  shake  his  faith.  "  Happy  is  the 
man  whom  God  correcteth ;  therefore,  despise  not  thou  the 
chastenings  of  the  Lord."  "  For  he  maketh  sore  and  bindeth 
up ;  he  woundeth,  and  his  hands  make  whole." 

There  is  nothing  more  common  than  to  find  persons 
severely  afflicted,  or  painfully  bereaved,  who  suppose  that  God 
is  angry  with  them.  They  regard  their  trials  as  evidences 
of  His  displeasure.  Now  such  a  view  is  totally  opposed  to 
the  declarations  of  Scripture.  "  Whom  the  Lord  loveth  He 
chasteneth,  and  scourgeth  every  son  whom  He  receiveth." 
35* 


414  DARKNESS    TURNED    TO    LIGHT. 

"  If  ye  endure  chastening,  God  dealeth  with  you  as  with 
sons."  "As  many  as  I  love,  I  rebuke  and  chasten."  In 
the  language  of  Massillon — "the  more  God  afflicteth,  the 
greater  is  His  love  and  His  watchfulness  over  you.  Now 
what  more  consoling  in  our  sufferings !  God  seeth  me  ;  He 
nurabereth  my  sighs ;  He  weigheth  mine  afflictions ;  He 
beholdeth  my  tears  to  flow  ;  He  raaketh  them  subservient  to 
my  eternal  sanctification.  Beloved  sufferings,  which  in 
depriving  me  of  all  human  aids,  restore  me  to  God,  and 
render  Him  mine  only  resource  in  all  my  sorrows."  If,  then, 
these  afflictions  are  administered  in  love,  we  should  receive 
them  with  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit.  Imitate  the  patience  of 
Jesus,  whose  lips  never  uttered  a  murmur,  and  whose  heart 
never  throbbed  with  an  emotion  of  complaint,  even  under 
those  crushing  sorrovrs  which  He  endured  for  a  world's 
redemption.  He  was  patient  and  lamb-like,  and  with  the 
help  of  His  spirit  we  may  exhibit  a  like  resignation  to  the 
Divine  will.  This  is  what  the  apostle  calls  "  being  exercised 
thereby  in  righteousness."  And  then  will  "these  light  afflic- 
tions, which  endure  but  for  a  moment,  not  be  worthy  to  be 
compared  with  the  glory  which  shall  be  revealed  in  us." 
"For  they  work  out  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal 
weight  of  glory." 

Bereavements  are  also  eminently  fitted  to  try  the  character 
of  our  faith.  "  Blessed  is  the  man  that  endureth  temptation  ; 
for  when  he  is  tried,  he  shall  receive  the  crown  of  life  which 
the  Lord  hath  promised  to  them  that  love  him."  "  That  the 
trial  of  your  faith,  being  much  more  precious  than  of  gold  that 


DARKNESS   TURNED    TO   LIGHT.  415 

perish eth,  though  it  be  tried  with  fire,  might  be  found  unto 
praise,  and  honor,  and  glory,  at  the  appearing  of  Jesus 
Christ."  Ahhough  we  may  have  conclusive  evidence  of 
the  existence  of  a  living  faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  we  cannot  in 
health,  and  amid  the  smiles  of  Providence,  form  a  just  con- 
ception of  the  strength  of  our  faith.  The  tree  may  stand 
well  when  the  atmosphere  is  calm  ;  but  it  will  depend  upon 
the  depth  and  firmness  of  its  hold  in  the  earth  whether  it  will 
abide  firmly  amid  the  war  and  conflict  of  the  elements.  And 
so  faith  may  appear  to  possess  all  the  requisite  properties  for 
its  endurance  amid  disturbing  causes,  but  it  is  only  when 
it  is  subjected  to  some  fiery  ordeal  that  the  believer  can 
know  what  maturity  it  has  attained,  and  to  what  depth  it  is 
rooted  in  the  promises  and  immutability  of  God.  As  long 
as  a  kind  Providence  smiles,  and  all  things  go  well  with  us, 
it  is  not  difficult  to  trust  in  God  ;  for  there  is  no  room  even 
for  a  feeble  faith  to  question  the  Divine  goodness,  so  long  as 
the  outspread  wings  of  the  angel  of  the  covenant  defend  us, 
and  protect  our  families  and  homes  from  suffering  and  blight. 
But  if  the  beaming  countenance  of  a  reconciled  Father  be 
covered  with  a  cloud,  and  Providence  frowns,  and  the  hand 
of  God  withers  our  beautiful  things,  and  we  are  overwhelmed 
with  darkness  and  desolation,  then,  if  our  faith  burns  the 
brighter  because  of  the  surrounding  gloom,  we  have  assurance 
that  it  lays  hold  on  eternal  life.  For  if  it  keeps  the  soul 
fixed  and  trusting  amid  such  scenes,  then  it  is  not  the  off- 
spring of  fancy,  but  is  founded  in  the  Divine  perfections.  It 
has  come  from  God  ;  and  in  its  outflows  it  pass^^s  beyond  all 


416  DARKNESS   TURNED    TO    LIGHT. 

subordinate  means,  and  gathers  within  its  embrace  the  Rock 
of  ages,  into  whose  clefts  it  is  rooted,  and  from  \Yhich  it 
draws  its  nourishment  and  life ;  and  will,  therefore,  endure 
as  long  as  that  Rock  stands  the  pillar  of  salvation.  If 
detached  from  all  human  helpers,  and  from  our  own  strength 
we  cling  only  "  to  the  Rock  that  is  higher  than  we  are,"  we 
shall  abide  unshaken  amid  the  severance  of  the  fondest  rela- 
tions ;  and  above  the  cries  of  our  breaking  hearts  and  the 
throes  of  our  dissolving  nature  will  rise  the  song  of  triumph, 
because  our  redemption  is  fully  come.  Such  should  be  the 
Christian's  faith  —  a  faith  that  gathers  energy  from  the  wreck 
of  his  earthly  hopes.  And  such  will  be  the  character  of  that 
faith  which  is  grounded  upon  the  veracity  of  Jehovah,  and 
born  of  the  Spirit,  and  baptized  in  the  blood  of  atonement. 
It  wdll  rise  like  a  luminous  pillar  to  the  throne  of  glory,  and 
fill  the  soul  with  joy,  when  nothing  is  left  us  but  God. 

Bereavements  should  also  breathe  a  mellowing  light  upon 
the  Christian  character.  Their  tendency,  if  not  resisted,  is 
evidently  calculated  to  make  us  heavenly-minded,  and  to 
bring  us  into  closer  communion  with  the  Saviour.  The  trials 
of  life  should  so  act  upon  our  Christian  graces  as  to  cause 
them  to  send  out  their  fragrance  to  refresh  the  more  feeble  in 
faith,  and  to  proclaim  the  glory  of  Divine  grace. 

"  The  good  are  better  made  by  ill  — 
As  odors  crush'd  are  sweeter  still." 

'Affliction  is  the  good  man's  shining  scene; 
Prosperity  conceals  his  brightest  ray ; 
As  night  to  stars,  wo  lustre  gives  to  man." 


DARKNESS   TURNED    TO   LIGHT.  417 

And  that  we  may  glorify  God  in  our  sufferings,  let  us  yield 
up  our  all  to  Him,  and  cast  ourselves  upon  Hirn  as  our  all- 
sufficient  helper.  If  our  souls  are  animated  with  His  love, 
and  our  scattered  thoughts  and  affections  be  made  to  circle 
and  glow  around  the  cross,  our  life  will  become  beautiful 
with  holiness ;  and  with  a  quiet  and  submissive  spirit  we  can 
say  — 

"Heart,  be  still! 
In  tlie  darkness  of  thy  -wo 
Bow  thee,  silently  and  low  ; 
Comes  to  thee  whate'er  God  will ; — 

Be  thou  still ! 

Be  thou  still ! 
Vainly  all  thy  words  are  spoken, 
Till  the  word  of  God  hath  broken 
Life's  dark  mysteries,  good  or  ill, 

Be  thou  still ! 

Lord,  my  God  ; 
By  thy  grace,  0  may  I  be 
All-submissive  silently, 
To  the  chastenings  of  thy  rod, 

Lord,  my  God. 

Shepherd,  King ! 
From  thy  fulness,  grant  to  me 
Still,  yet  fearless  faith  in  thee 
Till,  from  night  the  day  shall  spring, 

Shepherd,  King !" 

Come  then,  ye  bereaved  and  desolate  souls,  with  your 
humble  brother,  once  more  to  the  sepulchres  of  our  departed. 


418  DARKNESS   TURNED    TO    LIGHT. 

Here  let  us  realize  that  the  Eternal  God  is  our  portion,  that 
the  arm  which  controls  the  resources  of  the  universe,  is 
stretched  forth  for  our  support  and  defence.  Let  us,  then, 
say  to  our  beloved  ones.  Rest  in  peace —  God  hath  soothed 
our  sorrows,  and  lifted  our  eyes  and  hearts  to  that  home 
where  your  spirits  rejoice.  Dear  departed  ones,  we  will  still 
revisit  your  sepulchres ;  but  not  to  lament  that  God  has 
taken  you  to  Himself,  but  to  commune  with  you,  for  it  is  good 
for  us  to  be  here."  Yea,  even  now  we  seem  to  hear  you 
speak  to  us  from  your  silent  abodes. 

"  Ye  good  distressed ! 
Ye  noble  few  !  who  here  unbending  stand 
Beneath  life's  pressure,  yet  bear  up  awhile, 
And  what  your  bounded  view,  which  only  saw 
A  little  part,  deem'd  eyil,  is  no  more ; 
The  storms  of  wintry  time  will  quickly  pass, 
And  one  immortal  spring  encircle  all." 

And  amid  these  hallowed  scenes,  let  us  bow  in  the  name 
of  Immanuel  to  breathe  together  our  final  prayer.  Great 
God  !  accessible  to  us  through  thy  Son,  it  is  at  Thy  footstool 
we  kneel  to  breathe  our  sad  and  sorrowful  prayer.  Thy 
hand  hath  smitten  us,  but  we  will  kiss  that  hand,  for  infinite 
wisdom  commanded,  and  infinite  goodness  controlled  that 
stroke.  Our  hearts  lie  bleeding  before  thee — heal  them  with 
the  balm  of  Thy  love!  Our  spirits  are  crushed  —  breathe 
upon  them  Thy  quickening  grace  !  Alas !  we  murmured, 
because  we  understood  not  Thy  dealings  with  us.  But 
henceforth  we  will  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done."  We  repent 
31* 


DARKNESS   TURNED    TO    LIGHT.  419 

of  all  our  repinings,  of  our  doubts  and  unbelief,  of  our 
wanderings  from  Thee,  and  of  our  seeking  consolation  apart 
from  Thy  favor  and  promises.  And  we  fervently  beg,  tliat 
ours  may  be  the  blessedness  of  those  whose  sins  are  forgiven, 
and  whose  iniquities  are  pardoned.  Our  deceitful  hearts 
have  clung  to  vain  hopes,  and  to  vain  desires.  Our  affec- 
tions were  set  upon  objects  frail  as  the  flowers  of  the  field. 
We  loved  too  much  this  world,  and  now  that  Thou  hast 
stricken  with  death  those  whom  we  idolized,  we  have  been 
taught  that  Thou  wilt  not  yield  to  another  Thy  rightful 
place  in  our  affections.  Merciful  God!  divorced  from  all 
earthly  things,  join  our  souls  to  Thee.  Lord,  make  us  wholy 
Thine,  and  whatever  Thou  dost  take  away,  give  Thyself  to  us 
and  fill  us  with  Thy  fulness.  Give  u.s  a  faith  that  pierces 
these  clouds,  and  that  views  the  paradise  above  ; — a  faith  all- 
conquering,  a  love  unfeigned,  and  a  hope  as  an  anchor  to 
the  soul,  both  sure  and  steadfiist,  and  that  entereth  within 
the  veil.  And  O !  thou  adorable  Lamb  of  God,  our  com- 
passionate Redeemer,  wash  our  souls  in  the  fountain  of  Thy 
blood,  that  we  may  one  day  praise  Thee  in  robes  of  white. 
May  Thy  presence  go  with  us  through  this  vale  of  tears, 
and  in  death  be  our  portion.  Commission  the  spirits  of  our 
sainted  to  conduct  us  to  Thy  throne.  And  on  the  morning 
of  that  day,  when  Thou  comest  on  Thy  great  white  throne, 
and  all  who  are  in  their  graves  shall  hear  Thy  voice,  grant 
us  a  part  in  the  resurrection  of  the  just.  And  when 
ushered  into  Thy  glory,  may  we  find  all  our  families  and 


420  DARKNESS   TURNED    TO    LIGHT. 

friends  in  Thy  kingdom,  that  unitedly  we  may  gather  the 
blessings  of  a  happy  immortality  by  the  River  of  Life. 
And  unto  Thee  the  Father,  and  unto  Thee  the  Son,  and  unto 
Thee  the  Holy  Ghost,  be  honor,  glory,  and  dominion,  world 
without  end.     Amen. 


CHAPTER  TWENTIETH. 


GRAVE -YARDS  AND  CEMETERIES,  OR  THE  CLAIMS 
OF  THE  DEAD  UPON  THE  LIVING,  AND  THE  CARE 
WHICH  SHOULD  BE  BESTOWED  UPON  THE  PLACES 
OF  THEIR  REPOSE. 


*'  Lips  I  have  kiss'd,  ye  are  faded  and  cold  ; 
Hands  I  have  press'd,  ye  are  covered  with  mould  ; 
Form  I  have  clasp'd,  thou  art  crumbling  away, 
And  soon  on  thy  bosom  my  breast  I  shall  lay. 
Friends  of  my  youth,  I  have  witnessed  your  bloom, 
Shades  of  the  dead,  I  have  wept  at  your  tomb  . 
Tomb,  I  have  wreathes,  I  have  flowers  for  thee, 
But  who  will  e'er  gather  a  garland  for  me  ?" 


"We  have  not  discharged  all  the  offices  of  friendship  and 
affection  which  we  owe  to  the  departed,  when  we  have  con- 
signed "  ashes  to  ashes,  and  dust  to  dust,"  anoid  the  solemni- 
ties of  our  holy  religion.  There  are  other  duties  which  we 
owe  them,  the  performance  of  which  cannot  be  neglected 
without  seriously  reflecting  upon  our  character  as  individuals, 
and  upon  our  piety  as  Christians.  To  give  them  a  Christian 
burial  is  a  simple  duty ;  to  cherish  and  perpetuate  their 
memory  are  marks  of  esteem.  Our  beneficent  Creator  has  for 
36  (421) 


422  GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

wise  purposes  implanted  in  all  human  bosoms  the  desire  to  be 
remembered  by  the  living,  when  they  shall  sleep  in  the  dust. 
And  as  none  can  be  indifferent  whether  they  have,  or  have 
not,  a  place  in  the  aflfections  of  those  whom  they  love,  so 
they  are  also  conscious  of  a  like  solicitude  to  retain  their  hold 
upon  the  memory  of  friends  after  their  present  relations  with 
this  life  have  been  dissolved.  And  as  it  would  be  painful  to 
us  personally  were  we  assured  that  we  would  be  forgotten 
and  neglected  after  our  removal  from  this  world,  we  should 
be  careful  that  such  is  not  the  doom  of  our  departed  ones. 
In  this,  as  well  as  in  every  other  particular,  should  we  bring 
the  force  of  that  law  which  is  very  properly  styled  the  golden 
rule,  to  bear  upon  our  conduct:  "Do  unto  others  as  ye 
would  have  others  do  unto  you."  And  as  the  wish  is  foreign 
to  all  properly  constituted  minds,  and  in  conflict  with  the 
yearnings  of  all  affectionate  hearts,  that  when  quitting  the 
busy  scenes  and  fond  circles  of  earth,  those  whom  they 
cherished  should  cease  to  speak  gently  of  them,  and  not  recall 
whatever  of  goodness  pertained  to  their  character ;  thus,  also, 
we  should  not  allow  the  memory  of  our  sainted  to  be  clouded 
with  any  uncharitable  thoughts,  or  marred  by  unkind  associa- 
tions or  w^ords:.  The  suggestions  of  reason,  and  the  lessons 
of  religion  enjoin  the  obligation  to  commit  their  faults  and 
imperfections  with  their  bodies  to  the  grave,  and  to  enshrine 
within  the  sanctuary  of  our  souls  all  that  was  attractive  and 
pleasant  in  their  history.  The  images  of  our  departed  should 
always  be  images  of  beauty,  and  these  will  grow  in  loveliness 
and  grace  in  proportion  as  we  are  successful  in  the  combination 


GRAVE-YARDS   AND   CEMETERIES.  423 

of  those  intellectual,  social,  and  moral,  excellencies  which 
adorned  their  lives.  For  while  it  is  a  humiliating  fact  that 
in  the  purest  and  most  exalted  forms  of  human  character 
there  are  many  visible  defects,  yet  even  our  fallen  nature  is 
seldom  found  to  be  such  a  barren  soil  as  not  to  produce  some 
flowers.  And  not  only  should  we  gather  up  and  combine  as 
we  would  scattered  gems,  the  virtues  of  those  who  were 
intimately  related  to  us,  but  of  those,  also,  who  were  joined 
to  us  by  no  other  ties  than  those  which  the  social  law  creates, 
or  such  bonds  as  are  the  offspring  of  a  common  humanity. 
For  many  of  the  most  distinguished  dead  are  known  to  us 
only  in  the  results  of  their  labors,  and  in  the  blessings  with 
which  they  enriched  mankind ;  but  they  are,  therefore, 
worthy  of  our  sympathy  and  regard.  And  the  same  con- 
siderations which  would  prevent  us  from  thinking  or  speak- 
ing unkindly  of  those  who  have  entered  the  spirit-landj 
should  induce  us  to  hold  their  reputations  sacred,  that  we 
may  vindicate  their  character  when  assailed,  with  an  energy 
equal  to  that  with  which  we  would  repel  a  wicked  or  mischiev- 
ous charge  against  ourselves.  Happily  this  is  not  often  neces- 
sary, since  comparatively  few  even  of  the  viler  sort  of  men  are 
sufficiently  heartless  to  be  altogether  destitute  of  respect  for 
those  who  have  passed  away  from  among  the  living.  It 
demands  such  a  viciousness  of  character,  and  such  malignity 
of  disposition,  that,  even  in  this  degenerate  world,  society 
is  not  afflicted,  w^ith  any  considerable  number  of  these 
cowardly  revilers.  And  yet  history  and  experience  do 
furnish  instances  where  men,  eminent  for  their  virtues,  and 


424  GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

illustrious  for  their  varied  and  large  benefactions,  were  after- 
wards the  subjects  of  abuse  and  defamation.  None  are 
more  liable  to  suffer  reproaches  of  this  kind  than  the  disciples 
of  the  Redeemer,  Nvho,  in  proportion  to  their  devotion  to 
the  cause  of  their  Master,  and  the  purity  of  their  lives, 
excite  the  evil  passions  of  the  wicked.  The  children  of  God 
have  always  had  their  enemies,  "  for  all  who  live  godly  in  Christ 
Jesus  shall  suffer  persecution."  And  it  seems  as  though  it  were 
not  enough  for  wicked  hands  to  plant  thorns  in  the  path  of  the 
just  through  life,  since  they  sometimes  manifest  a  disposition 
to  disturb  their  repose  in  the  grave.  But  to  speak 
maliciously  and  falsely  of  the  departed  is  a  crime  equally 
abhorrent  with  that  of  violating  their  dust. 

But  as  there  have  been  thousands  of  minds  employed  in 
framing  aspersions  and  blasphemies,  and  tongues  ever  ready 
to  utter  them  against  the  holy  name  of  our  adorable  Re- 
deemer, it  is  not  marvelous  that  such  should  take  delight  in 
traducing  the  characters  of  those  who  are  distinguished 
for  their  piety.  Does  not  the  conceited  and  miserable  skep- 
tic, the  man  of  a  weak  intellect  and  a  foul  heart,  sneer  at  the 
Old  Testament  saints,  because  of  their  recorded  imperfections, 
which  they  deplored,  and  of  which  they  heartily  repented  ? 
just  as  though  the  sun  could  have  no  dark  spots  upon  its 
broad  disc,  and  yet  fill  the  universe  with  light!  And  to 
what  conclusion  would  the  honest  reader  be  driven,  were 
they  paraded  on  the  sacred  page  as  beings  of  immaculate 
purity  ?  Assuredly  would  we  be  forced  to  adjudge  the 
"ecord  to  be  false  ;  or  constrained  to  regard  them,  not  as 


GRAVE-YARDS   AND    CEMETERIES.  425 

depraved  human  beings,  struggling  against  their  corruptions, 
in  their  ascent  to  light  and  glory  out  of  that  moral  abyss  into 
which  sin  had  cast  them  ;  but  as  unfallen  or  angelic  creatures. 
It  is  truly  wonderful,  that  with  their  limited  advantages  of 
knowledge  and  revelation,  they  should  have  risen  to  such  an 
exalted  eminence,  where  their  characters  have  stood  out  con- 
spicuously to  the  eyes  of  centuries  so  luminous  with  moral 
glory,  that  their  imperfections  are  altogether  lost  in  the  efful- 
gence of  their  virtues,  and  would  not  be  known  at  all,  but 
for  that  honest  confession  and  statement  which  they  have  left 
us  of  their  own  delinquencies.  And  is  it  not  a  matter  of 
profound  gratulation  with  all  upright  men,  that,  notwithstand- 
ing the  force  of  so  many  circumstances  adverse  to  the  attain- 
ment of  a  high  degree  of  moral  excellence,  they  have  fur- 
nished the  world  with  such  models  of  piety  as  have  seldom 
been  equalled  and  never  surpassed,  by  later  and  more  favored 
generations.  And  as  the  voice  of  calumny  has  attempted  to 
darken  the  character  of  the  spotless  Son  of  God,  and  laborious 
efforts  have  been  called  forth  from  master  intellects,  to  divest 
His  miracles  and  discourses  of  all  their  marks  of  Divinity ; 
and  as  the  venomous  tongue  of  slander  has  sought  to  obscure 
the  lives  of  the  ancient  saints  and  martyrs,  and  attempted  to 
depreciate  the  excellence  of  all  those  "of  whom  the  world 
was  not  worthy,"  and  who  now  "  shine  as  the  brightness  of 
the  firmament ;"  thus,  also,  may  those  who  have  lived  in 
our  generation,  but  who  have  fallen  asleep  in  Jesus,  be 
assailed  by  the  enemies  of  the  cross.  And  should  we  be 
cognizant  of  such  instances,  we  owe  it  to  them,  and  to  the 
36* 


426  GRAVE-YARDS- AND    CEMETERIES. 

cause  of  our  holy  religion,  to  vindicate  their  characters,  and 
to  repel  those  assaults  which  they  have  no  longer  the  power 
to  meet  and  to  refute.  But  as  I  have  already  intimated,  it  is 
but  seldom  that  we  may  be  required  to  speak  in  defence  of 
the  departed. 

But  there  is  another  method  by  which  we  can  silently,  but 
effectually,  proclaim  our  veneration  and  love  for  those  who 
have  entered  their  rest,  and  that  is  by  exhibiting  a  proper 
regard  for  those  places  where  their  remains  repose.  The 
sepulchres  of  our  departed  should  be  treated  with  profound 
respect.  They  should  be  marked  with  such  memorials  as  we 
may  be  able  to  rear,  and  kept  in  such  a  condition,  that  they 
show  no  signs  of  forgetfulness  or  neglect  on  the  part  of  the 
living.  The  law  which  governs  those  kind  remembrances  of 
the  sainted  that  linger  in  our  hearts,  always  has  a  tendency 
to  externalize  what  is  inwardly  present  in  some  tangible 
outward  forms.  And  by  this  means,  the  cords  of  affection 
which  unite  us  to  those  who  have  passed  into  eternity, 
will  remain  healthy  and  active  until  they  have  drawn  us 
into  blissful  reunion  with  our  loved  ones  in  heaven.  And 
this  leads  me  to  the  more  important  and  prominent  part  of 
the  subject  of  this  chapter,  viz:  the  duty  of  the  living, 
properly  to  care  for  the  sepulchres  of  their  departed.  To  a 
refined  and  cultivated  mind,  there  is  not  a  more  mournful 
spectacle  on  earth  than  a  desecrated,  grave,  or  a  neglected 
and  over-grown  grave-yard.  It  evokes  from  the  soul  of  fine 
sensibilities,  emotions  aptly  pictured  by  the  briars  and 
thorns  which  cover  it.     It  indicates  such  a  want  of  taste  and 


GRAVE-YARDS    AND   CEMETERIES.  427 

propriaty,  an  absence  of  affection  on  the  part  of  the 
living,  for  the  dead,  so  unnatural  and  so  manifestly  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  lessons  of  Christianity,  that  it  is  difficult  to 
account  for  such  a  singular  perversion  of  those  humane  and 
sacred  principles,  with  which  human  society  is  instinct.  And 
while  we  conceive  it  to  be  manifestly  wrong,  and  calculated 
to  reflect  unfavorably  upon  the  community,  where  such 
neglect  of  the  dead  is  witnessed ;  it  is  not  to  be  presumed 
that  they  wish  to  show  any  intentional  disrespect  for  their 
friends ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  to  be  inferred,  that  it  is  solely 
because  their  attention  has  not  been  specially  directed  to  the 
subject.  It  was  the  frequent  and  melancholy  spectacle  of 
dilapidated  tombs  and  neglected  grave-yards  which  fell  under 
my  notice  in  various  sections  of  our  land,  together  with  the 
hope  of  doing  something  towards  removing  the  evil,  that  first 
suggested  to  me  the  propriety  of  preparing  a  volume  on  the 
subject  of  these  pages. 

The  inhabitants  of  our  large  cities  and  populous  towns 
have  wisely  adopted  the  precaution  of  laying-out  and  improv- 
ing cemeteries  at  a  distance  sufficiently  remote  from  the 
activities  of  business,  to  secure  their  dead  against  those  un- 
pleasant changes  of  place  which  the  expansion  of  business 
sometimes  demands.  In  many  instances  have  the  dead 
been  removed  to  these  places,  where,  it  is  hoped,  they 
will  be  permitted  to  repose  undisturbed  until  Christ  shall 
call  them  from  the  tomb.  The  appropriation  of  ground 
consecrated  by  the  sleeping  dust  of  former  generations 
to  other   uses,   should   be    undertaken   with   great    deliber- 


428  GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

ation,  and  consummated  in  the  most  delicate  and  sacred 
manner.  For  it  is  a  well-known  fact,  that  some  such 
changes  have  been  attended  with  very  painful  feelings  to 
those  whose  circumstances  did  not  enable  them  to  provide  a 
second  grave  for  those  whom  they  fondly  cherished,  or  who 
were  not  apprised  that  the  public  authorities  had  in  contem- 
plation the  conversion  of  old  grave-yards  to  other  purposes 
until  after  it  was  accomplished ;  and,  therefore,  they  had  no 
opportunity  to  remove  the  remains  of  their  friends.  There 
sleeps  now  the  dust  of  a  venerable  minister  of  God  under- 
neath tlie  walks  of  one  of  the  most  beautiful  squares  in  one 
of  our  large  cities.  And  many  others  in  the  same  place  are 
trodden  upon  by  the  thoughtless  multitude.  Whatever  con- 
siderations may  be  alleged  in  favor  of  such  changes  (and  we 
believe  there  are  generally  good  and  pressing  reasons  before 
public  sentiment  would  sanction  them),  it  is  assuredly  painful 
to  know  that  the  form  of  a  venerable  parent,  or  a  devoted 
friend,  is  continually  insulted  by  the  tread  of  a  busy  world. 
And  if  the  health  of  the  city  and  other  considerations  are 
absolute  in  their  demands  for  such  changes,  then  should  the 
remains  of  all  the  dead  be  removed,  at  the  public  expense, 
to  some  suitably-prepared  place  where  they  may  remain  un- 
molested. And  it  affords  me  sincere  pleasure  to  state  that 
a  few  instances  have  come  to  my  knowledge  where  the  con- 
stituted authorities  made  the  necessary  provision  for  the 
decent  re-interment  of  those  who  were  raised,  and  ordered  the 
transfer  of  the  dead  to  their  new  abodes  to  be  conducted  in 
a  becoming  manner,  and  in  strict  conformity  with  the  dictates 


GRAVE-YARDS   AND    CEMETERIES.  429 

of  humanity,  and  the  suggestions  of  our  holy  religion.  And 
equally  agreeable  is  it  to  the  writer  to  record  with  gratitude 
to  the  Divine  Being,  and  to  those  through  whose  instru- 
mentality those  retreats  of  the  dead  were  so  handsomely' 
fitted  up  and  so  tastefully  adorned,  the  pleasure  and  profit  he 
has  experienced  in  his  visits  to  those  cemeteries  in  and 
around  Philadelphia.  It  is  highly  gratifying  to  witness 
so  much  skill,  taste,  and  afTection  exhibited  in  the  many 
beautiful  and  appropriate  monuments  erected  there  to 
departed  worth  and  excellence. 

The  locations  are  generally  well,  and  some  of  them 
admirably  chosen.  The  arrangements  of  the  lots,  walks, 
enclosures,  and  adornments,  all  abundantly  bespeak  the 
cultivated,  the  excellent  and  liberal  spirit  of  the  families 
who  have  there  laid  the  treasures  of  their  affection. 
But  as  I  shall  more  parlicularly  speak  in  another  place 
of  the  propriety  of  beautifying  the  abodes  of  the  dead, 
I  will  return  to  the  matter  of  neglecting  these  sacred  places. 
There  may  be,  and  doubtless  are,  many  places  even  in  our 
cities  where  little  attention  is  shown  to  the  graves  of  departed 
friends ;  but  in  smaller  towns,  and  through  the  country, 
it  is  often  with  an  oppressive  sadness  that  we  are  forced 
to  view  the  dreary  and  cheerless  aspect  of  the  place 
where  the  dead  repose.  There  is  one  of  these  ancient  grave- 
yards which  I  visited  on  one  occassion,  that  may  afford  a 
pretty  accurate  picture  of  others  in  different  localities.  It 
was  a  place  of  some  interest,  since  pure  and  good  men, 
and  persons  of  distinction,  were  buried  there.     There  were 


430  GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

also  marked  indications  of  antiquity  about  it.  Many  years 
had  evidently  elapsed  since  the  last  sluraberer  was  received 
within  its  bosom  ;  and  few,  if  any,  of  the  families  that  repose 
there  have  representatives  among  the  living.  It  was  with 
some  difficulty  that  we  could  enter ;  and  in  passing  through 
it,  my  heart  was  filled  with  mournful  emotions,  because 
it  was  in  sympathy  with  those  who  had  been  blotted  from  the 
memory  of  the  living.  Near  the  entrance  there  were  a  few 
slabs  in  a  tolerable  state  of  preservation  ;  and  with  some 
effort  we  spelt  out  the  names  of  those  who  had  been  the  owners 
of  those  princely  estates  which  were  lying  within  the  range 
of  our  vision.  And  as  we  passed  on,  we  came  to  others  that 
had  fallen  prostrate  to  the  earth  ;  and  the  letters  which  made 
up  their  brief  history  were  altogether  effaced.  A  few  of  the 
slabs  were  entire,  but  most  of  them  were  broken ;  and  all 
sadly  injured  by  the  wasting  influence  of  time.  The  graves 
were  sunken ;  thorns,  briars,  and  thistles  grew  in  wild 
luxuriance  upon  them ;  and  the  only  spot  not  overrun  by 
them  was  under  a  wide-spreading  oak,  where  a  group  of 
noisy  children  were  playing,  giving  a  yet  deeper  shade  to  the 
melancholy  picture  of  neglect  which  marked  that  holy 
ground  ;  and  it  seemed  as  though  there  issued  from  those 
sunken  and  neglected  mounds  reproachful  utterances,  saying, 
"  We  have  nourished  and  brought  up  children,  and  they 
have  rebelled  against  us." 

Although  this  is,  perhaps,  not  a  fair  index  of  the  general 
appearance  of  grave-yards  through  the  land,  yet  is  there 
scarcely  a  community  where  you  would  find  a  field  upon  any 


GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES.  431 

of  their  farms,  showing  such  signs  of  neglect  as  we  often  meet 
with  in  the  village  church-yard.  And  even  where  the  enclosures 
are  of  a  substantial  character,  and  all  the  facilities  for  improve- 
ment are  at  hand,  there  is  too  frequently  a  total  absence  of 
all  ornament.  There  is  no  willow  or  evergreen  planted,  no 
myrtle  grown  on  the  graves,  nothing  to  remind  us  of  immor- 
tality, and  no  living  memorial  that  the  sleepers  are  remem- 
bered and  loved.  They  are  altogether  unprotected  from  the 
broiling  sun  of  summer,  and  there  is  not  an  object  to  break  or 
soften  the  violence  of  the  fiercely  howling  storm  of  winter. 

There  are  many  things  which  fall  under  the  observation  of 
man,  that  are  fitted  to  awaken  his  sympathy,  and  to  fill  his 
mind  with  melancholy  reflections ;  but  it  may  be  safely 
assumed,  that,  with  a  large  majority  of  men,  there  is  nothing 
which  appeals  so  strongly  and  mournfully  to  their  hearts,  as 
the  desolate  and  ruined  condition  of  the  consecrated  enclo- 
sure of  the  dead.  A  country  depopulated  and  despoiled  by  the 
ravages  of  war — a  nation  consumed  by  famine  or  wasted  by 
pestilence  —  or  a  city  whose  inhabitants  have  perished  under 
some  terrible  judgment  of  heaven  ;  all  are  eminently  suited 
to  spread  oppressive  sensations  over  the  contemplative  mind  ; 
and  yet  is  the  feeling  produced  by  such  meditations  not 
so  intensely  sad,  nor  so  darkly  tinged,  as  that  with  which 
we  ponder  a  grave-yard  in  ruins.  The  travelers  who  move 
amid  those  scenes  where  the  glory  of  centuries  lies  in  the 
ashes  at  their  feet,  are  conscious  of  the  most  profound  and 
touchingly  beautiful  sentiments  of  which  the  soul  is  capable, 
even  under  the  inspiration  of  the  most  stirring  recollections. 


432  GRAVE-YARDS   AND   CEMETERIES. 

Even  Volney,  so  heartless  on  many  other  occasions,  seemed 
to  be  moved  with  some  exalted  sentiments  while  wandering 
amid  the  ruins  of  ancient  cities ;  insomuch  that,  in  that 
singular  mixture  of  error  and  of  darkness,  "  The  Ruins," 
there  gleams  occasionally  a  brilliant  thought,  and  there  flashes 
sometimes  a  just  and  philosophical  deduction.  Who  could 
visit  the  ruins  of  Babylon,  and  recall  her  ancient  glory ; 
when  she  was  the  queen  city  of  the  east,  and  the  haughty 
mistress  of  nations  —  when  her  astrologers  and  soothsayers 
thought  they  discovered  such  signs  of  permanency  and 
strength  in  the  frame-work  of  her  political  structure,  as  justi- 
fied the  belief,  that  she  would  never  share  the  fate  of  those 
empires  that  had  yielded  to  the  slow  but  sure  operations  of 
the  silent  laws  of  mutation  which  reduce  all  earthly  great- 
ness to  the  dust,  and  not  be  filled  with  profound  sensations 
of  regret  as  he  contrasted  her  former  splendor  with  her 
present  ruins?  Once  the  renowned  centre  of  refinement  and 
learning ;  the  home  of  Daniel  and  other  illustrious  men  of 
those  times,  but  now  her  walls  crumbled  back  to  the  earth, 
her  temples,  and  altars,  and  palaces,  all  mingling  in  a  com- 
mon ruin,  and  all  her  glory,  except  that  which  lingers  on  the 
historic  page,  swept  away  by  the  wasting  whirl  of  centuries, 
and  nothing  remains  but  the  sad  lesson  which  rises  from  her 
desolation,  "  the  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away.'' 

And  what  Christian  can  contemplate  the  ruins  of  the  Holy 
City,  and  of  her  temple,  in  which  the  worship  of  the  true 
God  was  celebrated  with  imposing  solemnities,  and  of  the 
desecrated    tombs    of    her    prophets    and    kings,    without 


GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES.  483 

weeping  around  those  venerable  abodes  of  the  dead,  and 
sharing  the  emotions  of  the  scattered  but  patriotic  exiles  of 
Palestine,  who  turn  from  all  the  ends  of  the  earth  with  throb- 
bing hearts  and  streaming  eyes  towards  the  sepulchres  of 
their  fathers  ?  For,  while  no  national  sympathies  invest 
Palestine  with  a  sacred  memory  to  us,  our  holy  religion  was 
cradled  in  Bethlehem,  and  went  forth  from  Jerusalem ;  and 
this,  therefore,  has  made  that  land  which  is  enshrined  in  holy 
song  and  consecrated  by  a  Saviour's  tears  and  blood,  one  of 
peculiar  sympathy  and  interest  to  us ;  yet  even  that  city, 
from  which  flowed  those  streams  of  life  of  which  we  drink,  is 
not  cherished  by  us  with  that  affectionate  regard  which  we 
feel  for  that  place  where  our  departed  repose.  For  while 
many  holy  associations  cluster  around  the  land  whose  hills 
and  glens  once  resounded  with  the  sublime  effusions  of  the 
sweet  singer  of  Israel,  and  while  it  is  memorable  as  the 
place  where  Isaiah  uttered  his  lofty  predictions,  and  hallowed 
as  the  scene  where  Jesus  first  unfolded  the  mysteries  of 
redemption  ;  there  is  still  a  destiny  for  that  land,  in  the 
womb  of  the  future,  far  more  resplendent  with  the  awful  and 
visible  glories  of  Deity,  than  its  past  history  has  yet  furnished  ; 
for  there  shall  the  Son  of  God  reappear  in  His  glorified 
humanity,  and  with  all  the  investitures  of  universal  royalty, 
reign  over  "  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord,  who  shall  come  to 
Mount  Zion  with  songs  of  deliverance  and  everlasting  joy 
upon  their  heads."  For  whether  the  reign  of  a  thousand 
years  be  regarded  as  literal  or  spiritual,  there  can  be  but  one 
opinion  among  believers  in  the  truth  of  prophecy,  as  to  the 
37 


434  GRAVE-YARDS   AND   CEMETERIES. 

conversion  of  the  Jews  to  Christianity,  and  their  restoration 
to  their  lost  nationality.  But  fondly  as  we  now  linger  in 
thought  around  those  scenes  rendered  illustrious  as  the 
theatre  of  those  amazing  transactions  which  involved  the 
redemption  of  the  world,  and  delightful  as  are  the  anticipated, 
because  prophetic  glories  which  shall  yet  kindle  upon  the 
hills  of  Palestine,  and  shed  their  effulgence  over  the  reno- 
vated earth;  those  graves  which  hold  our  kindred  dust, 
should  inspire  a  yet  deeper  interest,  since  the  same  God  has 
promised  that  the  glory  of  immortality  shall  kindle  in  those 
dark  mansions,  and  go  out  upon  an  eternity  radiant  with  the 
blessings  of  everlasting  life.  And  those  who  admit  the  fact, 
that  these  houses  of  clay  which  are  dissolved  by  death,  shall 
be  rebuilt,  and  those  bodies  raised  and  glorified  shall  bend 
in  solemn  worship  before  King  Emmanuel,  will  not  deem  it 
a  superfluous  work,  nor  regard  it  an  irksome  task,  to  care 
for,  and  beautify,  the  sepulchres  of  their  departed. 

But  to  render  this  part  of  the  discussion  more  formal  and, 
if  possible,  more  conclusive,  I  would  urge  the  propriety  and 
duty  of  making  the  places  where  our  beloved  ones  repose 
attractive,  and  secure  them  from  desecrating  intrusions, 
by  considerations  such  as  the  following. 

First,  let  us  examine  the  relation  which  they  sustain  to  us. 
They  were  either  venerable  parents,  beloved  companions, 
friends,  or  our  own  offspring.  If  parents,  then,  as  children, 
^^•e  are  under  solemn  obligations  to  cherish  their  memory,  and 
to  protect  their  ashes.  They  gave  us  existence,  so  that  our 
physical,  intellectual,  and  to  some  extent  our  moral  constitu- 


GRAVE-YARDS   AND    CEMETERIES.  435 

tions,  were  immediately  transmitted  to  us  by  them,  as  the 
instruments  of  God.  They  watched  over  our  helpless 
infancy,  and  provided  for  all  our  natural  and  spiritual  wants. 
They  taught  us  to  know  and  to  love  God,  and  dedicated  us 
to  His  service.  They  conducted  our  infant  feet  to  fountains 
of  knowledge,  and  opened  to  our  wondering  gaze  mines  of 
intellectual  wealth.  They  afforded  us  opportunities,  and  pro- 
vided for  us  the  means  to  store  our  minds  with  valuable 
acquisitions.  And  convinced  that  an  educated  intellect, 
freighted  with  the  lore  of  ages,  and  clothed  in  the  royal 
robes  of  wisdom,  but  urged  onward  by  the  impulses  of 
-natural  corruption,  almost  invariably  blights  and  desolates 
all  that  comes  within  the  range  of  its  tremendous  and  fear- 
ful energy,  while  he  whose  mind  and  heart  are  alike  tutored 
and  brought  under  the  moulding  and  sanctifying  power  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  will  be  fitted  to  cultivate  and  keep  the  para- 
dise which  may  be  committed  to  his  trust  ;  they  labored  by 
prayer,  exhortation,  and  example,  to  possess  us  with  that 
intellectual  and  moral  furniture  necessary  to  our  personal 
happiness,  and  which  would  fit  us  to  become  benefactors  of 
our  race.  If,  therefore,  there  is  any  fruit  of  excellence  in 
our  lives,  any  energy  of  character,  amiableness  of  disposition, 
or  devotion  to  good  —  any  of  those  exalted  characteristics 
which  qualify  us  for  the  noble  functions  of  social  beings,  and 
rank  us  among  the  successful,  the  honored,  and  useful 
of  mankind,  w^e  should  regard  all  these  as  a  legitimate 
inheritance  from  our  parents.  Their  hands  planted  the  seed 
of  every  excellence  which  may  adorn  our  character ;    and 


436  GKAVE-YARDS   AND    CEMETERIES. 

when  those  seeds  had  germinated  under  the  quickening 
power  of  the  Spirit  won  down  upon  us  by  their  supplications, 
they  formed  that  atmosphere  of  purity,  and  sustained  about 
us  that  element  of  Divine  life,  which  are  absolutely  essential 
to  crown  the  springing  plants  of  grace  with  maturity,  and  to 
beautify  them  with  lasting  glory.  And  in  connection  with 
such  reflections,  we  should  also  consider  with  what  a  wealth 
of  love  they  cherished  us.  The  fountains  of  parental  affec- 
tion, have  depths  which  no  one  has  ever  yet  been  able  to 
fathom.  And  behold  how,  under  the  force  of  that  love,  they 
toiled  long  and  laboriously,  while  they  fervently  prayed  and 
anxiously  watched  for  our  good.  These  considerations  are 
in  themselves  amply  sufficient  to  induce  a  watchful  care,  and 
to  create  a  profound  respect  for  the  ashes  of  our  fathers  and 
mothers  who  have  gone  down  "  into  the  house  appointed  for 
all  the  living." 

But  a  higher  authority  may  be  brought  forward,  and  more 
urgent  reasons  assigned,  to  establish  this  point.  The  first 
commandment  with  promise  is,  "  Honor  thy  father  and  thy 
mother,  that  thy  days  may  be  long  upon  the  land  which  the 
Lord  thy  God  giveth  thee."  This  command  does  not  simply 
require  a  respectful  obedience  to  the  wishes  of  parents  during 
our  minority,  and  regard  and  protection  when  enfeebled  by  age, 
but  honor  when  they  are  dead.  And  do  we  not  frequently 
witness  the  visible  fulfilment  of  the  promise  annexed  to  that 
command  in  the  distinguished  blessings  with  which  a 
covenant-keeping  God  crowns  the  lives  and  labors  of  those 
who  honor  their  parents?     And  who  does  not  commend  the 


GRAVE-YARDS   AND   CEMETERIES.  437 

spirit  of  those  children  who  rear  such  memorials  to 
those  "  who  nourished  and  brought  them  up,"  as  their 
circumstances  will  admit,  and  inscribe  upon  them  affec- 
tionate remembrances  of  their  worth.  And  if  the  monument 
be  ever  so  simple,  boasting  of  nothing  but  natural  affection, 
this  itself  will  impart  to  it  a  far  higher  value  than  art  or  aught 
else  could  bestow  where  love  had  been  wanting. 

A  gentleman  relates  the  following  touching  dialogue  which 
passed  between  himself  and  three  children  in  a  village  grave- 
yard. "  A  boy  of  about  ten  years  of  age  was  busily  engaged 
in  placing  sods  of  turf  about  a  newly-made  grave,  while  a  girl, 
a  year  or  two  younger,  held  in  her  apron  a  few  roots  of  wild 
flowers.  The  third  child,  still  younger,  was  sitting  on  the 
grass  watching  with  thoughtful  look  the  movements  of  the 
other  two.  The  girl  soon  commenced  planting  some  of  her 
wild  flowers  around  the  head  of  the  grave,  when  the  stranger 
addressed  them  : 

"  '  Whose  grave  is  this,  children,  about  "which  you  are  so 
busily  engaged  ?' 

"  '  Mother's  grave,  sir,'  replied  the  boy. 

"  '  And  did  your  father  send  you  to  plant  these  flowers 
around  your  mother's  grave?' 

"'No,  sir;  father  lies  here,  too,  and  little  William,  and 
sister  Jane. 

"  '  Then  who  told  you  to  do  this  ?' 

"  '  Nobody,  sir,'  replied  the  girl. 

"  '  Then  why  do  you  do  it .'" 

"  '  Oh,  we  do  love  them,  sir.' 
37 


488  GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

"  '  Then  you  put  these  grass  turfs  and  wild  flowers  where 
your  parents  are  laid  because  you  love  them  ?' 

"  '  Yes,  sir,'  they  all  replied." 

This  beautiful  exhibition  of  children  honoring  their 
deceased  parents  shows  that  it  is  possible  for  all  to  place 
some  memorial  of  affection  upon  the  graves  of  those  they 
love  ;  if  nothing  else,  we  can  plant  a  wild  flower,  that  it  may 
bloom  there,  or  a  tree,  in  whose  branches  the  fowls  of 
heaven  may  warble  carols  over  our  venerated  dead. 

But  if  they  are  the  bosom  friends,  the  companions  of  our  life, 
a  wife  or  a  husband,  that  we  mourn,  then  affection  prompts 
us,  and  the  remembrance  of  plighted  faith,  and  a  still  existing 
spirit-union  enjoin  a  proper  care  for  the  places  of  their  repose. 
The  adorning  of  their  sepulchres  alleviates  our  grief,  and 
soothes  the  wounded  heart.  It  also  ministers  gratification 
and  comfort  to  the  bereaved  when  they  know  that  the 
embellishments  of  the  grave  of  their  beloved  arrest  the 
attention  of  the  stranger,  and  cause  him  to  pause  and  learn 
the  name  of  one  who  shared  so  laigely  in  the  love  of  others ; 
and  his  ascending  sighs  assure  us  that  his  sympathies  have 
been  enlisted  in  behalf  of  the  parties  who  once  rejoiced  in 
such  wealth  of  affection  as  is  unfolded  in  memorials  to  the 
departed. 

And  equally  strong  is  that  bond  of  union  which  united  us 
to  those  little  ones  who  were  once  the  light  aiid  joy  of  our 
nome-circles,  but  who,  like  fragrant  blossoms,  soon  dropped 
into  the  grave.  And  what  offering  would  a  devoted  heart 
withhold  from  a  beloved  child?    Who  would  not  place  some 


GRAVE- YARDS  AND  CEMETERIES.         489 

symbol  oi"  affection  or  innocence  on  the  little  grave.  Let  the 
heartless,  the  cold  and  calculating  worlding,  whose  sympathies 
are  with  his  gold,  or  the  unsubdued  and  unafflicted  skeptic, 
sneer  and  ask  his  silly  question,  "  to  what  is  this  waste  upon 
mouldering  dust ? "  fool!  what  does  he  know  of  holy  love, 
of  a  broken  heart,  or  a  desolated  soul  ?  Let  those  who  are 
destitute  of  the  finer  sensibilities  of  our  nature,  and  who 
are  vulgarly  gross  in  their  feelings,  ridicule  the  devotion  of 
fond  natures — we  thank  those  children,  those  widowed  com- 
panions, and  those  bereaved  parents,  for  beautifying  the 
sepulchres  of  their  departed.  Against  expenditures  in  honor 
of  the  dead,  heaven  has  uttered  no  prohibitions,  and 
earth  is  not  injured,  but  benefited,  by  them.  All  those 
beautiful  emblems  which  adorn  the  many  tombs  around 
which  we  have  lingered,  and  all  those  affectionate  records 
upon  them,  have  always  assured  us  that  we  are  in  a  world  of 
warm  and  loving  hearts.  Were  it  possible,  we  would  write 
every  excellence,  paint  every  feature,  and  breathe  all  the 
animation  of  the  painter's  pencil  and  the  sculptor's  chisel 
upon  the  memorial  reared  to  our  beloved. 

And  such  is  not  the  feeling  of  an  individual  or  of  an  age, 
but  a  sentiment  as  wide-spread  and  universal  as  our  human- 
ity has  extended.  Nations  of  the  highest  antiquity  laid  out 
their  skill  in  adorning  the  sepulchres  of  their  friends,  whether 
they  moved  in  humble  or  exalted  life.  The  labors  of  Lay- 
ard  among  the  ruins  of  Nineveh  have  brought  under  the 
inspection  of  mankind  many  interesting  specimens  of  ancient 
sculpture,  which    corroborate    the    truth    of   this   statement. 


440  GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

The  Egyptians,  Greeks,  Romans,  and  indeed  all  nations, 
have  acted  in  this  from  a  common  impulse ;  and  by 
their  example  sanctioned  the  custom,  and  thus  established 
the  fact  that  the  dictates  of  Nature  lead  us  to  honor  the  dead, 
so  that  the  relation  which  we  sustainetl  to  those  we  loved 
rises  into  the  dignity  of  a  law,  which  makes  it  our  duty  to 
care  for  the  sepulchres  of  our  departed. 

The  lessons  of  religion  also  inculcate  the  duty  which  we 
have  been  endeavoring  to  enforce.  It  was  the  custom  among 
the  Jews  to  provide  imposing  and  expensive  funeral 
obsequies  for  their  deceased,  and  to  rear  attractive  monu-^ 
ments  at  the  public  cost  to  those  citizens  that  were 
distinguished  in  their  commonwealth  either  in  civil  or  eccle- 
siastical life.  And  while  the  state  showed  becoming  respect 
to  men  of  eminent  worth,  individuals  frequently  prepared 
costly  tombs  for  themselves  and  families  while  they  were  yet 
living.  Although  this  was  the  practice  for  many  genera- 
tions, yea,  for  centuries,  God,  who  never  failed  through  His 
prophets  to  reprove  them  for  whatever  wrong  they  committed, 
never  uttered  a  word  of  disapprobation  against  this  custom  ; 
and  it  is,  therefore,  our  privilege  to  claim  for  it  the  Divine 
sanction.  Instead  of  being  attended  with  any  deleterious 
consequences,  it  is  fraught  with  many  blessings,  since  it  can- 
not fail  to  exert  a  highly  beneficial  influence  upon  society. 
Such  honor  and  respect  shown  to  the  dead  often  give  birth 
to  noble  purposes  and  to  exalted  determinations  in  the  minds 
of  the  rising  generation.  When  a  youth  reads  the  excellen- 
cies of  the  departed  chronicled  upon  the  marble,  and  hears 


GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES.  441 

men  recount  the  worth  of  a  public  or  private  citizen,  this 
very  act  may  implant  the  germ  of  future  greatness  and  of 
honorable  distinction.  For  a  great  idea  or  a  high  resolve 
carries  within  itself  an  inspiration  that  will  wake  all  the 
powers  of  the  soul  into  sublime  activity;  so  that  those  hidden 
energies  which  would  have  slumbered  on,  had  not  some  out- 
ward circumstance  given  birth  to  that  thought,  are  destined 
to  unfold  in  large  benefits  to  the  world,  and  in  brilliant 
honors  to  the  individual.  Thus  the  interests  of  patriot- 
ism, of  philanthropy,  and  of  religion,  are  subserved  and 
advanced  by  those  adornments  of  the  sepulchre  which  con- 
tracted and  selfish  natures  pronounce  extravagant  or  man- 
worship.  And  in  like  manner  are  all  the  social  and  family 
feelings  strengthened  and  beautified,  and  human  nature 
improved  in  all  that  ennobles  man  by  attention  to  the  graves 
of  the  departed. 

Would  you  then  fill  your  country  with  patriots  and  citizens 
who  will  lay  their  best  energies  and  talents  upon  the  altar  of 
their  country,  and  if  need  be,  pour  out  their  blood  at  the 
shrines  of  freedom  as  an  oblation  to  their  country's  glory .'' 
Would  you  draw  from  the  seclusions  of  private  life,  men  of 
noble  endowments,  of  undoubted  integrity,  and  true  to  the 
interests  of  the  country,  into  legislative  halls,  into  the  Senate, 
the  Cabinet,  and  the  chair  of  State  ?  Then  suffer  not  ingrati- 
tude and  forgetfulness  to  mark  your  actions  in  relation  to 
those  who  have  discharged  with  ability  and  fidelity,  the  high 
functions  of  those  stations  in  civil  life.  A  great  intellect  is 
conscious  of  its  birthright  to  immortality.       And  while  its 


442  GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

mighty  energies  are  marshalled  to  arduous  toil,  its  exertions 
are  pleasant,  and  its  results  great  in  proportion  as  its  labors 
are  appreciated.  To  toil  uncheered,  and  to  be  doomed  to 
neglect  and  forgetfulness  as  soon  as  we  are  dead,  would  be 
reflections  in  themselves  sufficiently  potent  to  quench  the 
ardor,  and  to  paralyze  the  intellectual  machinery  of  the  great- 
est mind  in  whose  eye  there  flames  not  yet  an  immortal 
crown.  And  although  the  Christian  may  labor  with  success, 
and  with  some  degree  of  cheerfulness,  when  he  enjoys  the 
approbation  of  his  conscience,  and  the  favor  of  his  God,  yet 
is  he  greatly  aided,  and  his  labors  wonderfully  facilitated,  by 
the  approving  smiles  of  those  who  appreciate  his  efforts  for 
the  good  of  mankind.  No  mind  is  injured  by  a  just  appre- 
ciation of  its  exertions  for  the  public  good ;  but  it  may  be 
bound  with  leaden  manacles  by  cold  neglect.  What  other 
man  would  submit  to  such  trials  and  privations  as  those  of 
Washington,  were  the  Father  of  our  country  now  unhonored 
and  ansung?  And  whatever  be  the  force  of  those  higher 
motives  which  heaven  inspires  —  whatever  amount  of  po- 
tency they  may  have  acquired  in  the  Christian's  mind,  he 
is  still  human,  and  although  he  seeks  not  for  empty  applause, 
yet  is  he  cheered  and  stimulated  to  still  greater  efforts,  by 
the  gratitude  and  love  of  those  for  whose  good  he  toils. 
Would  Howard  have  traveled  over  kingdoms,  and  visited  all 
the  foul  prisons  they  contained,  had  those  prisoners  whom  he 
befriended  in  the  first  few  instances,  cast  on  him  sullen  looks, 
spurned  his  proffered  consolations,  and  turned  from  him  v>'ith 
a  scowl  upon  their  countenance,  and  curses  upon  their  lips.'' 


GllAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES.  443 

Ah !  it  was  because  their  stern  features  were  relaxed  and 
glowed  with  joy,  and  their  eyes  flowed  with  tears  of  gratitude, 
that  he  did  fly  on  swift  wing,  that  he  might  carry  his 
consolations  to  others  who  were  wretched.  And  who  can 
'  doubt  that  his  eminent  success  with  the  guilty  and  wretched, 
and  the  charms  of  that  music  which  issued  from  contrite  hearts, 
won  not  only  his  life  and  fostune  to  that  work  of  benevolence, 
but  induced  many  others  to  follow  in  his  footsteps.  It  is 
because  his  efforts  were  appreciated,  and  his  memory  is 
honored,  that  many  others,  from  no  higher  impulses  than 
those  of  humanity,  have  chosen  for  themselves  a  similar 
vocation,  and  become  a  blessing  to  thousands  of  our  race. 
And  the  principle  loses  none  of  its  force  when  brought  from 
piiblic  into  private  life.  A  want  of  respect  for  the  dead,  and 
a  total  disregard  for  the  places  of  their  repose,  would  exert  a 
debasing  influence  upon  society.  It  would  throw  a  blight 
over  all  the  relations  of  life,  and  weaken,  if  not  utterly 
destroy,  every  tie  of  affection.  Treat  the  remains  of.  the 
departed  with  neglect,  suffer  the  enclosure  where  you 
have  deposited  their  ashes  to  be  overgrown  with  weeds,  and 
the  walls  broken  down,  and  you  will  place  man,  after  the 
vital  spark  has  fled,  upon  the  same  basis  which  the  inferior 
animals  occupy.  It  would  assuredly  degrade  and  brutalize 
the  feelings  of  society,  did  such  a  custom  universally  prevail. 
It  would  diminish  flie  affection  between  parents  and  children, 
for  if  the  grave  be  a  terminus  at  which  all  fond  remem- 
brance  ceases,  then  the  bond  which  unites  thcrn  loses  its 


444  GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

spirituality,  and  becomes  altogether  earthly,  and  partakes  of 
that  weakness,  and  finally  of  that  death,  which  is  common  to 
all  earthly  things.  But  let  grave-yards  and  cemeteries  be 
kept  in  good  condition  and  improved  ;  let  veneration  for 
such  places  become  an  element  in  the  home  education  of  our 
offspring,  and  let  it  be  an  object  on  the  part  of  their  instruc- 
tors on  all  suitable  occasions,  to  inspire  them  with  respect  for 
the  departed,  and  the  happy  effect  of  such  discipline  and 
instruction  will  be  manifest  in  the  tastefully  decorated  tombs 
of  their  deceased  friends,  and  also  in  the  elevating  and  refi- 
ning tendency  upon  their  entire  character.  For  we  hold  it 
to  be  a  truth  which  cannot  be  successfully  controverted,  that 
if  children  are  taught  to  gather  flowers  with  their  own  little 
hands,  and  weave  garlands  for  the  graves  of  their  sainted 
ones,  this  very  act  will  awaken  thoughts  which  will  reach 
to  heaven,  and  produce  such  conversation  as  will  embrace 
in  its  topics  that  which  is  fitted  above  all  things  else,  to 
expand  and  purify  the  mind  ;  and  what  is  equally  important, 
is,  that  the  heart  under  such  culture  will  be  prepared  for  the 
reception  of  those  lessons  of  Christianity,  which  are  to  trans- 
form it  into  the  image  of  Christ,  and  at  last  conduct  it  to 
everlasting  life. 

The  condition  of  a  grave-yard  is,  generally  speaking,  a 
very  good  index  of  the  character  of  the  community  in  which 
it  is  located.  And,  if  here  I  might  suggest  a  lesson  of  advice, 
I  would  say,  have  a  care  about  your  confidence,  and  interest, 
and  reputation  among  a  people  where  you  witness  an  air  of 
negligence  and  desolation  overspreading  the  sacred  enclosure 


GRAVE-YARDS   AND    CEMETERIES.  445 

where  their  departed  repose.  Be  assured  that  no  pure  afFec- 
tions,  no  generous  friendships,  and  no  lofty  principles  are 
enthroned  in  hearts  whose  sympathies  are  not  embodied  in 
fitting  memorials  of  the  dead.  They  may  affect  to  love  you, 
and  profess  a  high  esteem,  as  long  as  caprice  or  policy  may 
dictate  ;  but  they  will  cast  you  off  as  they  would  a  worthless 
garment,  when  their  own  selfish  ends  can  no  longer  be  sub- 
Sffived  by  your  presence.  Butterflies  are  never  seen  in  the 
storm  ;  and  those  who  profess  friendship  for  the  living,  and 
yet  neglect  the  dead,  will  prove  false  in  the  hour  of 
dark  adversity.  Has  that  young  man  who  is  within  an  hour 
of  a  mother's  grave,  shed  no  tears  there  for  months  or  years  ? 
Be  not  surprised  if  you  should  discover  improprieties  in  his 
conduct,  nor  amazed  if  he  should  become  a  heartless  and 
neglectful  husband.  Hearts  that  are  worthy  of  the  wealth  of 
true  affection,  are  those  whose  vibrations  extend  into  the 
graves  of  their  departed. 

And  if  a  church-yard  be  an  exponent  of  the  character  of 
the  people  in  whose  midst  it  is  found,  so  is  it  also  a  standard 
of  their  piety.  That  fine  monuments  may  be  constructed 
and  appropriate  s.entiments  may  be  inscribed  upon  them,  by 
those  who  have  no  experimental  knowledge  of  salvation,  is 
unquestionably  true  ;  but  it  is  an  exception,  rather  than  a 
rule.  For  w^e  doubt  not,  that  even  those  not  professedly 
pious  who  exhibit  their  regard  for  lost  friends,  are  often 
conscious  of  deep  exercises  of  soul,  and  feel  all  the 
strugglings  of  new-born  desires  in  their  hearts,  which  they 
earnestly  hope  will  issue  in  the  regeneration  of  their  nature. 
38 


446  GRAVE-YxYRDS    AND    CExMETERIES. 

And  even  where  such  raanifestalions  rise  no  higher  than  the 
human,  they  still  atlbrd  us  the  pleasing  conviction  that  their 
authors  are  susceptible  of  good  impressions,  because  they  are 
the  subjects  of  noble  impulses.  If  even  the  motives  of 
some  could  not  be  commended,  this  does  by  no  means  im- 
pair the  correctness  of  the  assertion,  that  the  aspect  of  the 
grave-yard  affords  a  pretty  accurate  idea  of  the  religious 
sentiment  of  the  community.  Christianity  has  consecrated 
the  ashes  of  saints,  not,  indeed,  in  such  a  sense  as  to  entitle 
the  departed  to  religious  homage,  or  to  justify  any  transactions 
of  this  nature  ;  but  so  as  to  cause  them  to  be  reverenced  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  secure  them  from  neglect.  An  intimate 
acquaintance  with  individuals  who  exhibited  no  interest  in 
those  who  had  fallen  asleep  in  Jesus,  has  not  unfreqnently 
left  the  conviction  on  the  mind,  that  their  piety  was  as 
cheerless  and  unattractive  as  those  places  where  their  departed 
reposed,  and  where  grew  the  thorn,  the  nightshade,  and  the 
thisde  in  wild  luxuriance.  Believe  it,  believe  it,  the  religion 
of  heaven  humanizes  and  sanctifies,  while  it  is  as  diffusive  as 
the  leaven,  and  will  w^ork  its  way  into  all  the  actions  of 
the  individual  in  whose  heart  it  has.  found  a  lodg- 
ment. As  the  leaven  operates  silently,  while  it  irresist- 
ibly assimilates  the  meal  to  its  own  nature  ;  thus  piety  has  a 
silent  influence,  which  acts  and  speaks  far  more  impressively 
than  all  the  professions  of  the  lip.  And  if  anywhere,  it  is 
visible  in  its  beautifying  effects,  in  its  hopeful  teachings,  and 
its  glorious  intimations ;  it  is  in  those  manifestations  of 
symbols  and  flowers,  and  an  air  of  loveliness,  which  it  gives 


GRAVE-YARDS   AND    CEMETERIES.  447 

to  the  whole  aspect  of  the  sepulchres  of  the  departed  in  a 
truly  Christian  community. 

But  there  is  another,  and  as  I  think,  a  much  higher  con- 
sideration, which  demands  the  recognition  and  discharge  of 
the  duty  which  has  been  urged  upon  the  living.  I  mean  the 
connexion  which  exists  between  believers  and  Christ.  The 
body  of  the  saint  is  no  longer  common  dust.  It  is  no  more 
human  nature  totally  degenerate  and  corrupt ;  but  human 
nature  regenerated,  sanctified,  and  exalted  into  living  union 
with  Jesus  Christ,  Leaving  out  of  view  any  change  or 
advantage  which  may  have  been  imparted  to  humanity  as  a 
unit,  by  the  incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God,  the  nature  of  the 
Christian  holds  a  vital  relation  to  the  great  Redeemer.  This 
is  a  necessary  result  from  the  intimate  union  which  exists 
between  the  body  and  the  soul.  The  temple  is  sanctified 
through  the  indwelling  and  pervading  influences  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  Through  faith  the  soul  is  restored  to  the  favor  of  God, 
and  brought  into  fellowship  with  Christ.  Or  as  Paul  says, 
the  believer  is  engrafted  upon  Christ  as  the  living  stem,  and 
flourishes  from  the  out-flows  of  grace  which  proceed  from 
Him,  who  is  the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith.  Hence  the 
expressions  which  indicate  "  Christ  as  our  life,"  as  living  in 
Christ,  and  He  in  us,  and  as  living  by  faith  on  the  Son  of 
God.  The  Redeemer  Himself  has  told  us,  "  I  am  the  vine, 
ye  are  the  branches;  abide  in  me,  and  I  in  you."  "If  ye 
abide  in  me,  ye  shall  bear  much  fruit."  And  in  like  manner 
do  many  of  the  Apostolic  exhortations  run.  "  Brethren,  I 
beseech  you  by  the  mercies  of  God,  that  ye  present  your 


448  GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

bodies  a  living  sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  unto  Gon 
which  is  }Our  reasonable  service."  And  so,  also,  does  the 
Apostle  pray.  "  Wherefore  I  pray  God,  that  He  may  sanctify 
your  whole  body,  and  soul,  and  spirit."  The  same  idea 
is  substantially  conveyed  in  those  discourses  where  he  speaks 
of  the  members  of  the  believers'  body,  as  instruments  of 
righteousness.  The  Christian  is  uniformly  represented  as  a 
member  of  Christ's  mystical  body,  and  holds  the  same  relation 
to  Him  as  any  one  member  of  the  human  frame  holds  to  the 
body  entire.  And  that  there  is  a  sanctifying  influence  exerted 
upon  the  physical  man,  admits  of  no  doubt.  It  could  not  be 
otherwise,  for  we  might  as  well  attempt  to  show  that  it  is 
possible  for  a  living  member  of  our  body  not  to  be  visited 
with  the  flows  of  life  from  our  hearts,  as  to  maintain  that  the 
physical  nature  of  man  is  not  animated  with  the  influence  of 
divine  grace.  For  the  blood  does  not  more  thoroughly 
circulate  through  all  our  mysterious  framework,  and  through 
all  the  members  of  the  body,  than  the  hallowed  power  of  the 
life  of  Christ  in  the  believer  pervades  the  entire  man.  This 
is  very  forcibly  expressed  in  that  passage  of  the  Apostle 
where  he  says  —  "Ye  are  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost." 
The  body  is  that  temple  in  which  the  awful  presence  of  the 
Godhead  is  manifested.  The  Lord  Jesus  assured  His  disci- 
ples that  He  and  the  Father  would  come,  and  with  the  Spirit 
make  their  abode  in  them.  Thus  saith  the  High  and  Lofty 
One  who  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name  is  Holy ;  I  dwell 
in  the  high  and  holy  place  ;  also  with  him  who  is  of  an 
humble  heart,  and  a  contrite  spirit."     Now  it  is  in  virtue  of 


GRAVE-YARDS   AND    CEJVIETERIES.  449 

this  union  with  Jesus  Christ",  who,  by  his  incarnation,  death, 
and  resurrection,  has  not  only  purchased  for  our  souls  the 
blessings  of  a  glorious  immortality,  but  has  also  given  iis 
assurance  that  our  bodies  shall  be  raised  from  the  grave,  and 
participate  in  the  blessed  realities  of  eternal  life.  This  temple 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  is  doomed  to  fall  into  a  heap  of  ruins ;  but 
however  long  it  may  lie  in  that  condition,  it  is  still  in  unison 
with  Him  who  will  one  day  reconstruct  and  invest  it 
with  a  more  gorgeous  glory  than  when  first  reared  out 
of  the  dust,  and  impart  an  indestructibility  to  its  proper- 
ties that  will  make  it  coexistent  with  the  immortality  of  the 
soul.  "  It  were  a  light  spirit  which  should  not  be  overawed 
amid  the  ruins  of  a  temple,  which  should  recognize  nothing 
solemn  in  the  mouldering  pile  which  it  knew  had  once  cano- 
pied the  more  immediate  presence  of  God,  especially  if  it 
further  knew,  that  on  some  approaching  day  the  ruins  would 
be  reinstated  in  symmetry  and  strength,  forming  again  a  struc- 
ture whose  walls  should  be  instinct  with  Deity,  and  from 
whose  recesses  as  from  awful  shrines  should  issue  the  voice 
of  the  Eternal.  The  dead  body  is  that  fallen  temple  which 
was  consecrated  on  earth  as  the  habitation  of  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
it  decays  only  that  it  may  be  more  gloriously  rebuilt,  and  that 
God  may  dwell  in  it  forever  above.  Therefore,  it  is  no  slight 
impiety  to  show  contempt  or  neglect  of  the  dead."  Such  is 
the  eloquent  language  of  a  great  and  good  man  who  had  just 
conceptions  of  the  dignity  of  the  human  body.  0  !  it  is  not 
a  spirit  of  pride  or  vain  ostentation  that  we  would  call  into 
being  and  foster,  by  pleading  for  the  departed,  and  by  appro- 
3S* 


450  GRAVE-YAEDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

priately  adorning  the  places  where  we  have  laid  our  beloved  , 
but  to  awaken  and  strengthen  those  Christian  sentiments  and 
those  sublime  hopes  which  invest  with  the  sanctity  of  heaven, 
the  abodes  of  the  dead.  For  the  tomb  of  the  Christian  should 
not  be  so  much  regarded  as  the  "house  of  corruption  and  of 
worms,"  as  the  refining  crucible  which  shall  yield  up  the 
glorified  form,  all  glowing  with  the  lustre  of  a  blessed  immor- 
tality. For  that  body,  like  a  seed,  carries  with  it  into  the 
tomb,  a  germ  which  will  be  waked  into  immortal  life  and 
beauty  by  the  light  of  the  resurrection  morn. 

The  twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries  were  distinguished 
for  those  protracted  and  bloody  wars  carried  on  between  the 
Christians  and  the  Infidels,  who  were  contending  for  the 
possession  of  the  Holy  Land  which  contained  the  Sepulchre 
in  which  the  Lord  Jesus  had  lain.  It  was  customary  in  that 
age  to  make  pilgrimages  lo  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  and  it  being 
in  the  possession  of  the  Mahomedan  power,  those  individuals 
who,  under  the  influences  of  a  mistaken  piety  felt  it  to  be 
their  duty  to  visit,  at  least  once  in  their  life-time,  the  tomb 
of  Jesus,  were  often  molested  and  even  murdered  by  the 
hostile  power.  This,  in  connexion  with  other  circumstances, 
led  to  those  long  and  fearful  conflicts  which  are  familiarly 
known  as  the  Crusades.  And  such  is  the  importance  which 
those  of  a  corrupted  Christianity  attach  to  relics  and  sacred 
places,  that  even  quite  recently  the  Holy  Sepulchre  was  the 
tlieme  of  diplomatic  discussions,  and  has,  or  is,  destined  to 
enter  into  the  treaties  of  some  of  the  European  powers. 
There  is,  unquestionably,  a  vast  deal  of  superstition  mixed 


GRAVE-YARDS   AND    CEMETERIES.  451 

with  those  proceedings,  forasmuch  as  there  is  no  absolute 
certainty  as  to  the  precise  locahty  of  that  sepulchre  in  which 
our  Lord  was  laid  by  the  pious  Arimathean,  and  even  if  this 
were  certain,  that  body  which  reposed  there  for  a  few  days, 
is  now  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Father.  But  if  that  tomb 
were  definitely  known,  would  not  thousands  against  whom 
the  charge  of  superstition  could  not  lie  with  any  force  visit  it  ? 
Or  if  it  were  accessible  to  us,  who  would  not  res^ard  it  as  a 
great  happiness  to  weave  garlands  of  flowers  w'ith  which  to 
adorn  the  enclosure  that  was  once  honored  as  the  abode  of 
the  pierced  body  of  our  exalted  Redeemer?  Ah!  yes,  we 
would  cherish  the  spot  as  a  holy  shrine,  and  lay  out  our  skill 
to  clothe  it  with  beautiful  decorations,  and  lavish  upon  it 
offerings  of  our  gratitude.  But  our  glorious  Saviour  has  left 
us  His  solemn  declaration  —  "  Whatsoever  ye  do  to  one  of 
the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  do  unto  me."  The  dust 
of  His  saints  is  as  precious  to  Him  as  His  own  body  ;  for  it 
is  instinct  with  His  life.  His  sleepless  eye  is  ever  upon  it, 
His  Providence  guards  and  defends  it  until  the  dawn  of  that 
day  when  He  shall  recall  it  to  life,  and  clothe  it  with  glory. 
That  dust  is  ftir  more  precious  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord,  than 
all  the  gold  and  gems  on  earth,  and,  therefore,  honor  and 
respect  shown  to  those  who  sleep  in  Jesus  by  beautifying  the 
places  of  their  repose,  is  rendering  honor  to  the  Redeemer. 
It  is,  therefore,  in  view  of  the  estimate  which  Christ  sets  upon 
the  bodies  of  His  people,  and  the  promised  and  magnificent 
destiny  that  awaits  then,  that  we  urge  the  duty  of  bestowing 
proper  attention  upon  those  places  where  the  "  trump  of  the 


452  GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

archangel  will  cause  a  stirring  of  life,  and  Christ  shall  win 
new  triumphs  as  the  resurrection  and  the  life."  Let  us,  then, 
ornament  those  holy  scenes  where  our  kindred  repose,  with 
emblems  of  fond  remembrance,  and  with  tokens  of  that 
glorious  hope  which  will  terminate  amid  the  grandeurs  of  a 
blissful  eternity. 

As  a  further  legitimate  proof  of  the  propriety  of  caring  for 
the  dead,  I  may  also  cite  the  example  of  the  early  Christians. 
The  customs  of  those  upon  whom  the  light  of  Apostolic  ages 
shone,  are  invested  with  a  sacredness  which  usually  secures 
for  them  a  high  degree  of  respect ;  so  that  they  are  departed 
from,  by  those  of  like  faith,  only  when  the  weightiest  con- 
siderations demand  it.  Ecclesiastical  historians  inform  us  that 
the  apostate  Julian  commended  the  early  Christians  for  the 
care  which  they  bestowed  upon  the  dead,  and  for  the  manner 
in  which  they  cherished  them.  Writers  of  the  third  and 
fourth  centuries  inform  us  that  they  adopted  the  custom  of  the 
Jews  and  Romans  in  the  erection  of  monuments  to  their 
departed.  During  those  periods  when  the  fires  of  persecution 
raged  most  violently,  they  were  excluded  from  the  public 
burying  grounds,  and,  therefore,  forced  to  dispose  of  those 
who  died  in  the  most  secret  manner.  To  escape  the  notice 
of  their  enemies,  and  to  secure  their  departed  from  being' 
disturbed,  they  constructed  their  sepulchres  under  ground. 
"  By  far  the  greater  number,"  says  a  writer  on  Christian 
Antiquities,  "  of  primitive  Christians  were  buried  in  subterra- 
nean sepulchres."  "These  served  at  once  as  their  home 
and  their  burying-place;   and,  as  it  was  natural  that  they 


GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES.  453 

should  wish  to  have  the  bodies  of  their  departed  brethren 
conveyed  to  the  same  peaceful  and  inviolable  sanctuaries,  it 
became  hrst  from  necessity,  and  afterwards  from  choice,  the 
approved  and  invariable  practice  to  deposit  their  dead  in 
deep  and  obscure  caverns.  Among  the  monuments  of 
Christian  antiquity,  none  are  more  singular  than  these  abodes 
of  the  dead  ;  and  one  feels  at  a  loss  whether  most  to  admire 
their  prodigious  extent,  the  laborious  industry  that  provided 
them,  or  the  interesting  recollections  with  w'hich  they  are 
associated.  Like  the  Moorish  caves  in  Spain,  they  were 
generally  excavated  at  the  base  of  a  hill,  and  the  entrance  so 
carefully  concealed  that  no  aperture  appeared,  and  no  traces 
were  discernible,  except  by  an  experienced  eye,  of  the  ground 
having  been  penetrated,  and  of  the  vast  dungeons  that  had 
been  hollowed  underneath."  But  after  the  cessation  of  those 
fiery  trials  through  which  the  Church  had  fought  her  way, 
when  Christianity  had  gained  the  ascendency  over  Paganism, 
and  become  the  dominant  religion  in  the  Roman  empire,  they 
fitted  up  and  consecrated  suitable  places  for  this  purpose 
around  their  churches.  And  at  a  still  later  period  the  custom 
of  burying  distinguished  personages  within  the  walls  of  the 
church  w^as  established.  That  they  bestowed  great  care 
upon  the  tombs  of  their  departed,  and  were  accustomed  to 
embellish  their  grave-yards  and  erect  costly  monuments,  is 
evident  from  the  reproofs  which  some  of  the  clergy  of  that  age 
administered  in  several  instances,  where  these  things  were 
carried  to  a  degree  inconsistent  with  the  spirit  of  their  religion. 
But  while  Chrysostom  and  several  other  Fathers  rebuked  the 


454  GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

extent  to  which  the  decorations  of  those  places  were  carried, 
they  never  condemned  the  erection  of  appropriate  memorials, 
or  the  practice  of  showing  other  becoming  honors  to  the 
dead. 

And  finally  another  reason  w'hy  the  fitting  up  of 
cemeteries  and  the  adorning  of  grave-yards  should  be 
encouraged,  is  that  drawn  from  the  influence  which  these 
things  will  exert  upon  the  living.  If  these  places  are  skil- 
fully laid  out,  and  the  graves  adorned  in  a  tasteful  and  ap- 
propriate manner,  their  cheerful  aspect  will  divest  death  and 
the  tomb  of  a  vast  deal  of  that  terror  which  is  naturally 
associated  with  them.  There  is  something  dark  and  forbid- 
ding about  the  dissolution  of  the  soul  and  body,  which  causes 
human  nature  to  shrink  instinctively  from  it.  Death 
is-  spoken  of  as  the  King  of  Terrors,  and  as  a  ruthless  and 
inexorable  conqueror ;  so  that  when  sickness  comes  w'ith  its 
wasting  power,  and  hope  of  recovery  flies,  man  dreads  the 
approaching  but  inevitable  moment  when  he  must  be  brought 
into  immediate  conflict  with  him.  Ay,  it  is  a  solemn  moment 
when  he  steps  into  our  path,  and  confronting  us,  bids  us 
surrender  our  breath.  And  yet  it  is  not  so  much  death  itself 
as  that  which  is  to  follow,  that  makes  men  reluctant  to  die. 
Not  to  dwell  upon  those  solemn  realities  into  which  the 
soul  is  about  to  enter  as  fitted  to  inspire  us  with  profound 
solemnity,  if  not  whh  dread,  there  are  things  this  side  the 
circle  of  the  eternal  world  which  have  their  share  in  producing 
this  reluctance  to  depart.  Among  these  is  that  forget- 
fulness  and  gloom  which  are  so  frequently  associated  with 


GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES.  455 

the  grave.  To  lie  alone  in  the  earth  —  to  slumber  on  in  the 
darksome  tomb — to  have  none  to  come  near  and  drop  a  tear 
of  affection,  or  plant  a  flower  —  to  moulder  silently  back  to 
dust,  and  have  briars  and  thorns  grow  upon  my  bosom,  and 
be  trampled  underneath  the  foot  of  the  unconscious  brute  — 
ah !  these  thoughts  and  associations  in  connection  with  death, 
are  calculated  to  cloud  the  mind  and  to  trouble  the  heart ; 
and  they  are  common  where  no  Christian  care  is  bestowed 
upon  the  mansions  of  the  dead.  But  we  may  throw  a  more 
cheerful  aspect  over  that  solemn  event  which  will  sooner  or 
later  terminate  our  earthly  pilgrimage.  And  since  death  has 
become  a  tremendous  necessity,  we  should  employ  our  skill 
to  clothe  it  with  all  the  light,  and  all  those  softening  aspects 
which  lie  within  the  ability  of  the  mind  to  command,  that  we 
may  divest  it  of  all  that  is  appalling  to  the  soul.  There  are 
a  number  of  evils  connected  whh  our  removal  to  eternity,  for 
all  of  which,  Christianity  furnishes  an  antidote.  We  are 
required  to  leave  many  things  which  we  value,  and  many 
objects  which  we  love,  and  this  would  make  death  a  mourn- 
ful event,  did  not  the  religion  of  Christ  enrich  us  with  hopes 
of  far  greater  and  nobler  blessings.  We  must  surrender 
those  pleasures  which  we  derive  from  social  intercourse  with 
those  to  whom  we  are  intimately  and  fondly  united  ;  but 
we  pass  from  the  society  of  earth  to  mingle  with  the  perfected 
and  glorified  in  heaven.  And  if  we  lack  natural  fortitude  to 
go  down  into  the  dark  valley  alone,  we  are  furnished  with 
the  needful  grace  for  our  final  journey  if  we  make  application 
to  Him  "  who  loved  us,  and  gave  Himself  for  us."     Leanino- 


456  GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

upon  the  strong  staff  of  His  promises,  and  enjoying  His 
gracious  presence,  we  shall  fear  no  evil.  Being  thus 
fortified  against  all  the  painful  incidents  connected  with  death, 
the  Christian  is  perfectly  reconciled  to  the  change  which  he 
must  undergo.  And  if,  in  addition  to  these  Divine  influences, 
we  adorn  the  resting-places  of  the  departed  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  render  them  attractive,  and  so  as  to  clothe  them  with  an 
air  of  cheerfulness ;  the  tomb  is  no  longer  an  object  of  lK)rror, 
but  becomes  a  pleasant  and  delightful  retreat  for  those  who 
have  grown  weary  in  life's  pilgrimage.  Who  that  has 
a  mind  given  to  meditation,  and  has  visited  such  places  as 
Auburn,  Greenwood,  Laurel  Hill,  and  other  cemeteries,  has 
not  derived  pleasure  and  profit  from  a  walk  through  those 
charming  abodes  of  the  dead?  Ay,  are  not  the  associations 
of  such  an  agreeable  character,  that  the  weary  and  worn 
would  be  willing  to  lie  down  beneath  that  branching  cypress 
or  fir,  and  return  no  more  to  the  clashing  and  fitful  scenes  of 
a  busy  world  ?  0  !  is  there  not  a  charm,  which  even  reconciles 
us  to  present  trials,  in  the  hope  that  we  shall  some  day  repose 
peacefully  within  that  sweet  enclosure,  where  those  whom  we 
love  have  been  laid  ?  Any  of  the  weary  wanderers  of  earth 
might  count  it  a  rich  inheritance,  if  they  had  assurance,  that 
when  their  earthly  house  is  dissolved,  their  remains  should 
sleep  on  the  green  and  shady  Laurel  Hill  where  the  may- 
flower  blooms  —  hard  by  those  rocks  where  the  swallow 
builds  her  nest,  and  beneath  those  trees  where  the  robin 
hymns  her  matins  and  vespers,  while  the  gentle  Schuylkill 
murmurs  a  requiem  to  the   dead,  and  images  to  the  living, 


GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES.  457 

the  flowing  current  of  time,  which  is  bearing  us  all  onward 
to  the  bosom  of  eternity.  Sweet  abode  of  the  dead, 
may  those  who  formed  thee  had  a  Paradise  for  the 
repose  of  their  spirits,  even  more  beautiful  than  all  thy  monu- 
ments, emblems,  flowers,  and  river  are  fitted  to  image  to  the 
soul. 

And  if  like  skill  and  taste  were  expended  in  adorning  our 
church-yards,  how  much  more  elevated,  refined,  and  holy 
would  be  the  feelings  and  sentiments  of  those  who  worship 
the  living  God,  hard  by  the  sepulchres  of  their  departed !  If 
those  enclosures  were  of  proper  magnitude,  and  arranged  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  afford  a  little  retiracy  from  the  crowd  ; 
if  they  had  shaded  walks  and  some  humble  seats  along  those 
graves  where  the  aged  and  the  young  sleep  together,  0  !  what 
lessons  might  be  learned  there,  by  those  who  reach  the 
place  of  worship  some  time  previous  to  the  hour  of  service. 
Would  not  a  short  time  spent  in  meditation  around  the 
beautified  graves  of  departed  ones,  be  eminently  fitted  to 
prepare  the  mind  profitably  to  engage  in  the  worship  of 
Almighty  God  ?  An  exercise  of  this  description  would 
assuredly  be  suggestive  of  many  and  valuable  reflections. 
It  would  bring  the  mind  at  once  into  communion  with 
heaven ;  forasmucli  as  the  transition  of  thought  from  those 
lowly  mansions,  to  those  which  are  on  high,  is  as  natural  as 
it  is  pleasant.  Here  repose  their  bodies ;  yonder  in  that 
world  of  light  and  glory,  their  souls.  And  all  those  virtues 
with  which  their  characters  were  jeweled,  all  that  endeared 
them  to  us,  and  gave  them  favor  with  God  and  with  man, 
39 


458  GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

will  rise  vividly  before  the  mind,  and  urge  us  to  the  attaia- 
ment  of  like  excellence,  while  it  would  greatly  encourage  us 
to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  those,  "  who  through  faith  and 
patience  inherited  the  promises,"  and  have  entered  their  rest. 
Thus  we  would  call  into  existence,  an  influence  counter 
to  that  which  the  ill-conditioned  and  neglected  grave-yard 
now  exerts  upon  the  mind  ;  an  influence  potent  to  inspire  us 
with  a  holy  desire  to  depart  and  be  with  Christ  and  His  holy 
ones.  And  instead  of  clinging  to  earth,  and  shrinking  from 
death,  and  dreading  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man,  the  cry 
would  burst  from  many  hearts,  Hasten  !  hasten  thy  chariots, 
O  God  of  our  salvation !  Or  if  the  desire  to  enjoy  those 
peaceful  slumbers  and  future  glories  should  be  less  ardent  in 
the  minds  of  some,  it  v»'ould  at  least  fill  them  with  resignation 
to  the  Divine  will,  and  enable  them  to  enter  fully  into  the 
sentiment  so  beautifully  expressed  in  the  hyrnn  of  the  sainted 
Muhlenberg. 

"  I  would  not  live  alway ;  I  ask  not  to  slay, 
Where  storm  after  storm  rises  dai-k  o'er  the  -way ; 
The  few  lurid  mornings  that  dawn  on  us  here, 
Are  enough  for  life's  woes,  full  enough  for  its  cheer. 
I  would  not  live  alway  ;   no  —  welcome  the  tomb. 
Since  Jesus  hath  lain  there,  I  dread  not  its  gloom ; 
There  sweet  be  my  rest,  till  he  bid  me  arise, 
To  hail  him  in  triumph  descending  the  skies. 
Who  ?  Who?  would  live  alway,  away  from  his  God; 
Away  from  yon  heaven,  that  blissful  abode, 
Where  the  rivers  of  pleasure  flow  o'er  the  bright  plains, 
And  the  noontide  of  glory  eternaJly  reigns  ? 
Where  the  saints  of  all  ages  in  harmony  meet, 
Their  Saviour  and  brethren,  transported  to  greet ; 
While  the  anthems  of  rapture  unceasingly  roll. 
And  the  smile  of  the  Lord  is  the  feast  of  the  soul." 


GRAVE-YARDS   AND    CEMETERIES.  459 

I  might  urge  yet  other  considerations  to  establish  more 
firmly  the  proposition  advanced  and  supported,  but  the  sub- 
ject is  one  which  commends  itself  to  the  judgment  of  noble 
and  good  men,  while  it  will,  we  trust,  successfully  plead  its 
own  cause  with  all  hearts  which  are  the  home  of  generous 
friendships,  of  pious  tendencies,  and  of  holy  remembrances. 
There  can  be  no  expenditure  of  labor,  or  of  means,  which 
will  more  richly  compensate   mankind,  than  that  which  is 
bestowed  upon  the  sepulchres  of  our  departed.    For  attractive 
and    beautiful    grave-yards    and    cemeteries  will  assist  our 
piety,  promote  the  refinement  and  elevation  of  society,  while 
their  influence  is  favorable  to  the  exaltation  of  all  the  iliculties 
of  the    soul.     Their   quiet,    and    peace,    and   beauty,    give 
birth  to  another  and  spiritual  law,  which  attracts  as  strongly 
as  that  of  our  mortality,*  but  which,  unlike  that,  leads  us  to 
the  grave,  that  it  m.ay  conduct  us  to  glory.     And,  therefore, 
instead  of  clothing  the  city  of  the  dead  with  gloomy  asso- 
ciations, it  may  become  to  us  a  Paradise,  where  all  those 
emblems  and  sentiments  of  hope  and  of  glory,  w^ill  one  day 
glow   in   living   immortal    realizations.      May   God   attend 
with    His   blessing  whatever   is   contained   in   these   pages 
consonant  with  His  word,  and  in  harmony  with  His  will. 
May  it  be   the    pleasure  of  the    Lord    to    smile    upon   this 
effort  to  create  a  healthful  religious  sentiment  of  respect  and 
veneration  for  those  who   can  no  longer  plead  their  own 
cause,  save  in  those  silent  but  plaintive  utterances  which  rise 
from  their  neglected  abodes,  and  which  have  promj/ted  the 
author  of  these  pages  to  proclaim  a  message  from  them,  in 


460  GRAVE-YARDS    AND    CEMETERIES. 

the  ears  of  the  living.  And  may  He  whose  sleepless  care 
presides  over  all  the  works  of  His  hand,  encircle  us  with 
His  protecting  power ;  that,  encompassed  by  His  attributes, 
and  dwelling  in  the  secret  places  of  the  most  High,  we  may 
fear  no  evil  ;  and  thus  when  calamities  darken  our  sky,  and 
streams  of  earthly  comfort  forget  to  flow,  we  may  find  God  our 
refuge  and  Rock,  and  our  Spring  of  joy  flowing  fresh  and  full 
from  His  unfathomable  nature,  to  gladden  us  on  our  pilgrim- 
age through  this  "  dry  and  thirsty  land."  O!  Thou  merciful 
One,  let  Thy  gracious  Providence  attend  us  through  all  our 
wanderings,  and  support  us  to  the  end  of  our  days ;  and 
when  we  lie  down  in  the  silent  grave,  may  Thy  sleepless 
eye,  blessed  Redeemer,  watch  our  dust,  and  Thy  Spirit  move 
those,  whose  love  and  skill  will  not  suffer  a  grave  to  lie 
neglected,  or  a  grave-yard  unadorned.  And  may  it  hence- 
forth, even  until  the  resurrection  morn,  be  spoken  to  the 
praise  of  all  generations,  that  they  venerate  the  dead,  and 
care  for  the  sepulchres  of  their  departed. 


THE   END. 


CUMMING'S  WOEKS. 


UNIFORM  EDITION. 


LINDSAY  &  BLAKISTON 


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The  Rev.  John  CuinriNC,  D. D.,  is  now  the  great  pulpit  orator  of  London, 
as  Edward  Irving  was  some  twenty  years  since.  But  very  differont  is  the 
Doctor  to  that  strange,  wonderfully  eloquent,  but  erratic  man.  There  could 
not  by  possibility  be  a  greater  contrast.  The  one  all  fire,  enthusiasm,  and 
semi-madness ;  the  other  a  man  of  chastened  energy  and  convincing  calmness. 
The  one  like  a  meteor,  flashing  across  a  troubled  sky,  and  then  vanishing 
suddenly  in  the  darkness ;  the  other  like  a  silver  star,  shining  serenely,  and 
illuminating  our  pathway  with  its  steady  ray.  He  is  looked  upon  as  the  great 
champion  of  Protestantism  in  its  purest  form.  His  church  is  densely  crowded 
by  the  most  intellectual  and  thinking  part  of  that  crowded  city,  while  his 
Writings  have  reached  a  sale  unequalled  by  those  of  any  theological  writer  of 
the  present  day.  His  great  work  on  the  "Apocalypse,"  upon  which  his  great 
reputation  as  a  writer  rests,  having  already  reached  its  15th  edition  in  England, 
while  his  "  Lectures  on  the  Miracles,"  and  those  on  "  Daniel,"  have  passed 
through  six  editions  of  1000  copies  each,  and  his  "Lectures  on  the  Parables" 
through  four  editions,  all  within  a  comparatively  short  t^me. 


LINDSAY  &    BLAKISTON 

HAVE  JUST  PUBLISHED 

THE  WOMEN   OF  THE  SCRiPTURES, 

EDITED     BY     THE 
REV.    H.   HASTINGS   WELD; 

WITH 

ORIGINAL  LITERARY  CONTRIBUTIONS, 

BY 

DISTINGUISHED  AMERICAN  WRITERS: 

BEAUTIFULLY  ILLUSTRATED  BY 

TWELVE  SUPEKB   ENGRAVINGS   ON  STEEL, 
BY  J.  SARTAIN.  PHILADELPHIA. 

FROM  ORIGINAL  DESIGNS,  EXPRESSLY  FOR  THE  WORK, 

BY   T.   P.    ROSSITER,   NEW    YORK: 

INCLUDING 


Minam, 

Hannah, 

Esther, 

Etc, 

Ruth, 

'I'he  Syrophenidajl 

Sarah, 

Queen  of  Sheba, 

Martha, 

Kachel, 

Shunamite, 

The  Maryi. 

Elegantly  Bound  in  White  Calf,  Tiirkey  Morocco,  and  Cloth 
Extra,  with  Gilt  Edges, 


PREFACE. 

Thje  subject  of  this  book  entitles  it  to  a  high  place  among  illustrated 
oiumes.  The  execution,  literary  and  artistic,  will,  we  are  confident,  b« 
found  worthy  of  the  theme  ;  since  we  have  received  the  assistance  ol 
authors  best  known  in  the  sacred  literature  of  our  country,  in  presenting 
in  tlieir  various  important  attitudes  and  relations,  the  Women  of  th» 
BcRiPTUKES.  The  contents  of  the  volume  were  prepared  expressly  for  it, 
with  the  exception  of  the  pages  from  the  pen  of  Mrs.  Balfour ;  and  for  th« 
republication  of  her  articles,  no  one  who  reads  them  will  require  an  apohigy. 
The  designs  for  the  engravings  are  original;  and  the  Publishers  trust  that 
in  the  present  volume  they  have  made  their  best  acknowledgment  for  mo 
favour  with  which  its  predecessors  have  been  received.  Tlie  whole,  thoy 
oeiieve,  will  be  found  no  inapt  memento  of  those  to  whom  St.  Peter  refers 
the  sex  for  an  ensample  :  "  the  holy  women,  in  the  old  time." 


LINDSAY  &  BLAKISTON 

HAVE  RECENTLY  PUBLISHED, 

SCENES  IN  THE  LIFE  OF  THE  SAVIOURj 

BY   THE 

POETS  AND   PAINTERS: 

CONTAINING 

UAITV    GSMS    OF     ART     AND    GrUJXlV  9, 

ILLUSTRATIVE     OF 

THE  SAVIOUR'S  LIFE  AND  PASSION. 

EDITED    BY    THE 

REV.   RUFUS   GRISWOLD. 

THE   ILLL'STKATIONS,  WHICH  ARE  EXQUISITELY  ENGRAVED  ON  STEEL, 
BY  JOHN  SARTAIN,  ARE  : 


The  Holy  Family,  painted  by  N.  Poussin ; 
Tlie  Saviour,  bv  Paul  Delaroclie ; 
Christ  by  the  Well  of  Sychar.  by  Emelie  Signol; 
Ihe  Daughter  of  Janus,  by  Deloime  ; 


Walking  on  the  Sea,  by  Henry  Richter ; 
The  Ten  Lepers,  by  A.  Vandyke  ; 
The  Last  Supper,  by  Benjamiu  West ; 
The  Women  at  the  Sepulchre,  by  Phihp  Viat 


THE  LITERARY  CONTENTS,  COMPRISING  SIXTY-FOUR  POEMS,  ARE  BY 

Hilton,  Hemaiis,  Montgomery,  Keble,  Mrs.  Slgoiirncy,  Miss  Laa* 

don,  Dale,  Willis,  BulfincU,  Bethune,  Longfellow,  Wliittier, 

Croly,  Klopstock,  Mrs.  Osgood,  Pierpont,  Crossvvell,  and 

other  celebrated  Poets  of  tills  and  otlier  Countries. 

The  volume  is  richly  and  beautifully  bound  in  Turkey  Morocco,  gilt,  whitt 
calf  extra,  or  embossed  cloth,  gilt  edges,  sides  and  back. 


We  commend  this  volume  to  the  attention  of  those  who  would  place  a 
Souvenir  in  the  hands  of  their  friends,  to  invite  them  in  the  purest  strains  of 
poetry,  and  by  the  eloquence  of  art,  to  study  the  Life  of  the  Saviour. — Christ.  Obt, 

The  contents  are  so  arranged  as  to  constitute  a  Poetical  and  Pirtorial  Lift 
of  the  Saviour,  and  we  can  think  of  no  more  appropriate  gift-book.  In  typo- 
graphy, embellishments,  and  binding,  we  have  recently  seen  nothing  raois 
tasteful  and  rich. — North  American. 

We  hke  this  book,  as  well  for  its  beauty  as  for  its  elevated  character.  ^  Tt 
is  just  such  an  one  as  is  suited,  either  for  a  library,  or  a  parlour  centre-table; 
end  no  one  can  arise  from  its  perusal  without  feeling  strongly  the  subhmity 
Hid  enduring  character  of  the  Christian  religion. — Harrisburg  Telegraph. 


This  is  truly  a  splendid  volume  in  all  its  externals,  while  its  contents  ar 
richly  worthy  of  the  magnificent  style  in  which  they  are  preserited.     As  illus- 
traiions  of  the  Life  and  Passion  of  the  Saviour  of  mankind,  it  will  form  an 
appropriate  Souvenir  for  the  season  in  which  we  commemorate  h:a  coming 
tfton  earth. — Neal's  Gazette. 


IINOSAV  &,  BLAKISTON'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

SCENES  IN  THE  LIVES  OF  THE  APOSTLES; 

ILIHTSTRATED    BY 

CELEBRATED  POETS  AND  PAINTERS. 

EDITED    DY 

H.   HASTINGS   WELD. 
Eight  Illustrations,  beautifully  Engraved  on  Steel,  bySartain* 

rhe  Redeemer,  painted  by  Decaine  —  Frontis-  Christ's  charse  to  Pf.ter,  by  Raphael ; 

piece ;  Peter  and  Joliii  healing  tlie  Lame  Man  at  tk 
&jit'r)ch  II)  Syria,  by  Harding— Vignette  title ;  Beautiful  Gate  of  the  Temple,  b>-  Raphael,' 

Joiin  reprovmg  Herod,  by  Le  Bruii ;  Paul  before  Aprippa,  by  Sartain  ; 

rtirist,  with  Ins  Disciples,  weeping  over  Jerusa-  John  on  the  Isle  of  Patmos,  by  Decaine. 
«    lem,  by  Begas ; 

THE  LITKRARY  CONTENTS  CONSIST  OF  UPWARDS  OF  SEVENTY  POEMS,  BT 

Bishop  Heber,  Lowell,  Kcble,  Hannah  F.  Gould,  Clark,  Mrs. 
Hemans,  3Irs.  Sigourney,  Barton,  Bryant,  Miss  Landon,  Tap- 
pan,  Pierpont,  LongfelloAV,  Miss  Davidson,  Dale,  Cros- 
well,  Percival,  Bowring,  and  other  celebrated  Poets. 

Beautifully  bound,  in  various  styles,  to  match  "  Scenes  in  the  Life 
of  the  Saviour." 

We  do  not  know  where  we  could  find  a  more  elegant  and  appropriate 
present  for  a  Christian  friend.  It  will  always  have  value.  It  is  not  one  of 
those  ephemeral  works  which  are  read,  looked  at,  and  forgotten.  It  tells  of 
scenes  dear  to  the  hearts  of  Christians,  which  must  ever  find  there  an  abiding 
place. — Banner  of  the  Cross. 

Here  is  truly  a  beautiful  volume,  admirable  in  design,  and  perfect  in  its 
execution.  The  editor,  with  a  refined  taste,  and  a  loving  appreciation  of 
Scripture  history,  has  selected  some  of  the  best  writings  of  ancient  and  modern 
authors  in  illustration  of  various  scenes  in  the  Lives  of  the  Apostles,  whilst 
his  own  facile  pen  has  given  us  in  prose  a  series  of  excellent  contributions. 
The  lyre  of  Heber  seems  to  vibrate  again  as  we  turn  over  its  pages  ;  and 
Keble,  Jenner,  Cowper,  Herrick,  Bernard,  Barton,  and  a  brilliant  host  of 
glowing  writers,  shine  again  by  the  light  of  Christian  truth,  and  the  beaming 
effulgence  of  a  pure  religion.  It  is  an  elegant  and  appropriate  volume  for  a 
Christmas  gift. —  Transcript. 

The  exterior  is  novel  and  beautiful ;  the  typography  is  in  the  highest  style 
of  the  art ;  and  the  engravings,  nine  in  number,  are  among  the  best  efforti 
of  Mr.  Sartain.  The  prose  articles  contributed  by  the  editor  are  well  written  , 
and  tlie  poetical  selections  are  made  with  judgment.  The  volume  is  a  worthy 
companion  of  "  Scenes  in  the  Life  of  the  Saviour,"  and  both  are  much  more 
worthy  of  Christian  patronage  than  the  great  mass  of  annuals. — FreshyteriaTi, 


The  above  volumes  are  among  the  most  elegant  specimens  from  the 
American  press.  In  neatness  and  chasteness  of  execution,  they  are  perhapg 
unsurpassed.  The  engravings  are  of  the  highest  order;  and  illustrate  most 
strikingly,  and  with  great  beauty,  some  of  the  most  sublime  and  the  most 
touching  Scripture  scenes.  They  also  contain  some  of  the  richest  specimens 
of  Sacred  Poetry,  whose  subject  and  style  are  such  as  deeply  to  interest  the 
imagination,  and  at  the  same  time  to  make  the  heart  better.  We  hope  the 
Christian's  table,  at  least,  maybe  adorned  with  the  volumes  above  mentioned, 
and  such  as  these. — NewEiigland  Puritan. 


luiiiiijiui  k  %[dhk\\,  ]^\)\kM^\}k, 


HAVE    JUST     PUBLISHED 


THE  SEPULCHRES  OF  OUR  DEPARTED. 


REV.    F.    R.   ANSPAOH,   A.M., 

nAQERSTOTVJr,    MARYLAND. 


As  flowers  which  night,  when  day  is  o'er,  perfume, 
Breathes  the  sweet  memory  from  a  good  man's  tomb. 
Sir  E.  B.  Lytton. 


CONTENTS. 


Communion  with  tbe  Pa«t. 

The  Sacredness  of  the  Sepulchre. 

Visits  to  the  Sepulchres  of  our  De- 
parted. 

Lessons    ■which    the    Sepulchre    im- 
parts. 
The  Glory  of  Man. 

In  the  Sepulchre  the  Conflicts  of  Life 
end. 

At  the  Sepulchres  of  our  Departed  we 
may  learn  the  Value  of  Life. 

The  Sepulchre  proclaims  the  Evil  of 
Sin. 

The  Sepulchres  of  our  Departed  ad- 
monish us  to  be  gentle  and  kind  to 
the  Living. 

I'osthumo'is  Fame.  —  The  Sepulchre 
instruo'^s  us  honv  to  Live,  so  as  to  be 
remembered  when  Dead. 

fhe  Repose  of  the  Holy  Dead. 

The  -S'apulchre  reminds  us  of  tbe  Value 
and  Immortality  of  the  Soul. 


The  Hope  of  Resurrection  divests  the 
Sepulchre  of  its  Terrors,  and  brings 
Consolation  to  the  Bereaved. 

The  Indestructibility  of  the  Family 
Bond  a  source  of  Consolation  to  the 
Bereaved. 

At  the  Sepulchres  of  our  Departed  we 
may  also  learn  the  Right  which  Qod 
holds  in  us  and  our  Families. 

Future  Recognition. 

The  Sympathy  of  Jesus  with  afflicted 
and  bereaved  souls. 

Our  Present  and  our  Future  Home. 

Darkness  turned  to  Light,  or  the  Usei 
we  should  make  of  afflictions  and 
bereavements. 

Grave-yards  and  Cemeteries,  or  the 
Claims  of  the  Dead  upon  the  Living, 
and  the  Care  which  should  be  bo- 
stowed  upon  the  Places  of  their  Re- 
pose. 


One  Volume,  12mo.     Price,  $1  00. 


Xiiiii5ni{  k  331fllvistnn,  ^.^Ijilnhlpljia; 


HATE    RECENTLY    PUBLISHED 


THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT 


REV.  THEOPHILUS  STORK,  D.D. 


"Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaTen." — Jesus, 

"How  oft,  heart-sick  and  sore, 
I've  wished  I  were,  once  more, 
A  little  child." — Mks.  Southet. 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. — THE  WOXDEUS  OP 
BETHLEHEM. 

The  "  Holy  Child  Jesus."  The  Child- 
hood and  Youth  of  Christ.  The  De- 
vout Simeon,  with  the  Infant  Saviour 
in  his  arms.  Jesus  among  the  Doc- 
tors in  the  Temple.  The  s_ympathy 
of  Christ  with  little  children.  The 
beauty  of  childhood.  Poetical  cjuo- 
lations  from  Wordsworth. 

LITTLE    CHILDREN    BROUGHT    TO    THE 
SAVIOUR. 

Explanation  of  the  scene  in  Mark  x. 
13,  14.  The  Disciples'  conduct. 
The  probable  reasons  of  their  inter- 
ference. The  Saviour's  displeasure 
at  their  conduct.  His  affectionate 
welcome  to  children.  How  parents 
now  may  prevent  children  from 
going  to  Christ.  An  earnest  dis- 
suasive from  such  deportment.  The 
importance  of  example.  The  influ- 
ence of  the  home-spirit.  The  posi- 
tive duty  of  bringing  our  children 
to  the  Saviour. 

THE    CHILDREN   IN   THE   TEMPLE. 

R.xplanation  of  the  temple-scene,  Matt, 
xxi.  15,  16.  The  hosanna  of  the 
children.  The  displeasure  of  the 
priests  and  scribes.  The  Saviour's 
vindication  of  the  children.  Ps. 
viii.  2,  explained.  The  importance 
of  early  impressions.     Keformation. 


National  education.  Sunday  schools. 
Facts,  showing  that  children  trained 
in  religion  will  become  the  cham- 
pions of  truth  and  virtue.     Beautiful 

visions  of  the  future. 

TIMOTHY. 

His  early  religious  education.  The 
influence  of  maternal  piety.  Eunice 
an  example  for  the  imitation  of  mo- 
thers. The  "  child  father  of  the 
man."  Instruction  and  piety  com- 
bined. Encouragement  to  pious 
mothers. 

THE    INFANTICIDR    AT   BETHLEHEM. 

Explanation  of  the  scene.  Seeming 
incongruity.  Vindication  of  Divine 
Providence,  in  the  massacre  of  the 
infants.  Infant  martj-rs.  The  scene, 
suggestive  of  the  following  topics  : 

1.  The  death  of  little  children.  Sources 
of  consolation.  Providence.  Infant 
salvation. 

2.  Mission  of  children.  The  advent 
of  a  little  child  in  the  family.  The 
child  at  home.  The  sick  and  dying 
child.     The  memory. 

3.  Children  in  heaven.  Beautiful  as- 
pect of  the  heavenly  home. 

4.  Recognition.  Difficulties  of  tie 
doctrine.  Scriptural  aspect  of  tha 
subject.  David.  Ilecognition  of  the 
loved  and  lost  in  heaven. 

Conclusion. 


Ono  neat  12mo.  Volume,  Cloth,  gilt.    Price,  75  cents. 


t  leonnilt)  Unognition. 

LINDSAY  &  BLAKISTON,    Philadelphia, 

DAVE   JUST   PUBLISHED    THE      SIXTH    EDITION    OF 

THE  HEAVENLY  RECOGNITION, 

3K   AN   EARNEST   AND    SCRIPTURAL   DISCUSSION    OF   THE   QUESTIOM, 

'Bill  mi  liiDin  nnr  fi'mh  m  ^tmml 

BY   REV.    H.    HARBAUGH, 

fASTOR   OF   THE   FIRST    GERMAN   REFORMED    CHURCH,   LANCASTER,  T k. 

In  One  Volume^  13mo<    Price  75  cents« 


OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS. 

The  delightful  theme  of  the  blessed  recognition  of  each  other  among 
believers,  is,  in  this  book  of  Mr.  Ilarbaugh,  pastor  of  the  First  German 
Reformed  Church,  Lancaster,  Pa.,  handled  in  a  very  attractive,  living, 
and  comprehensive  manner. — Professor  Schaf,  in  his  Kircherifreund, 
Dec.  1852. 

We  have  found  great  satisfaction  in  examining  this  book,  and  have 
no  doubt  it  will  prove  a  most  acceptable  as  well  as  useful  contribution 
to  the  theological  and  religious  literature  of  the  day.  Christ  is  the 
centre  and  substance  of  it,  and  the  hope  of  our  eternal  union  with  our 
sainted  friends  is  ultimately  resolved  into  our  union  with  Him.  This 
leading  idea  is  set  forth  more  prominently,  and  greater  stress  is  laid 
upon  it,  and  the  subject  in  general  is  more  extensively  investigated 
and  fully  discussed,  than  in  any  other  publication  that  has  fallen  under 
our  notice.  The  arguments  are  derived  from  the  twilight  of  pagan- 
ism;  from  the  universal  consent  of  mankind ;  from  reason;  Jewish 
theology;  the  teachings  of  Christ;  of  the  apostles;  the  Christian 
fathers,;  theologians,  and  from  the  testimony  of  good  and  learned  men 
in  general.  The  objections  to  the  doctrine  are  answered,  and  its  prac- 
tical effects  exhibited,  with  great  ability  and  very  satisfactorily.  The 
purity  and  lucidity  of  the  style,  the  deep  pathos  and  beauty  that  runs 
through  the  whole  book,  and  its  constant  tendency  to  stimulate  us  to 
become  Christians  of  the  highest  order,  give  unusual  interest  and 
value  to  the  volume.  We  hope  it  may  be  extensively  read. — Lutheran 
Observer. 

We  have  read  the  above  work  with  much  pleasure.  It  is  gotten  up 
in  handsome  style,  and  forms  a  very  appropriate  sequel  to  its  prede- 
cessor. "  The  Sainted  Dead."  Those  who  have  read  that  work  can- 
not but  desire  to  read  this.  It  is  full  of  pious.  Christian  thought, 
presented  in  the  forcible  and  lively  style  for  which  the  productions  of 
ihe  author  are  distinguished. 


t  Beaunili]  ikmt 


LINDSAY  &  BLAKISTON,  PHILADELPHIA, 

HAVE   JUST   PUBLISHED    THE    THIRD   EDITION   OP 

THE  HEA?E1?LT  HOME; 

OR    THE 

EMPLOYMENT  AND  ENJOYMENTS  OF  THE  SAINTS  IN  HEAVEN. 
BY  THE  REV.  H.  HARBAUGH, 

AUTHOR   OF    "the    HEAVENLY   RECOGNITION   OF   FRIENDS,'"   AND 

"heaven;  or,  the  sainted  dead." 
In  One  Volnme  lUmo,    Price  $1  00. 

OPINIONS  OF  THE  PKESS. 

"  The  Heavenly  Home." — There  is  something  taking  in  that  title — 
at  least  there  ought  to  be  to  the  Christian  heart.  Like  "The  Saints' 
Everlasting  Rest,"  it  wins  upon  the  ear,  and  awakens  delightful  expec- 
tations. Still  we  were  not  prepared  for  so  pleasant  a  volume.  We  did 
not  look  for  so  much  earnestness  in  discussion,  so  much  beauty  and  ele- 
gance of  style,  so  much  fervent  and  exalted  piety,  and  withal  so  little 
idle  speculation.  In  reading  it,  we  almost  felt  as  though  we  were  stand- 
ing in  sight  of  the  Heavenly  Jerusalem ;  and,  to  vary  a  little  the  senti- 
ment of  Washington  Irving,  if  it  did  not  leave  us  a  better,  it  certainly 
left  us  a  more  devout  man  than  we  were  before  its  perusal.  We  therefore 
feel  that  in  commending  it  to  the  reader's  notice  we  are  doing  him  an 
essential  service. — Protestant. 

There  is  nothing  fanciful  here — nothing  bold  and  venturous  in  specu- 
lation, nor  attenuated  and  mystical  in  disquisition  j  but  the  author  gives 
himself  up  in  all  simplicity  to  the  leading  of  the  Holy  Spirit — follows 
the  instructions  of  Scripture  closely,  expounds  them  agreeably  to  the 
soundest  principles  of  interpretation,  infuses  an  humble  and  devotional 
spirit  into  every  page  and  paragraph  of  his  work,  aiming  to  lead  his 
reader  through  well  described  paths  of  intelligence,  love,  and  new  obe- 
dience, into  "  the  Heavenly  Home."  There  is  very  much  to  enlighten 
those  sitting  in  darkness,  much  to  refresh  those  ready  to  faint  through 
the  greatness  of  the  way,  much  to  encourage  the  desponding,  direct  the 
inquiring,  and  quicken  the  steps  of  the  halting.  In  a  word,  the  volume 
is  one  that  every  child  of  God,  and  every  one  longing  to  bear  the  filial 
relation  to  him,  may  take  up  with  an  assurance  of  Divine  instruction 
and  consolation. —  Congregaiionalist. 

The  style  of  this  book  is  lucid — the  thoughts  glowing — the  tone  that 
everywhere  pervades,  is  heaven-like.  The  author  has  seized  upon  every 
aspect  of  heaven  which  Scripture,  reason,  or  imagination  allow  hfm  to 
present,  and  he  has  dwelt  upon  them  with  the  zest  of  a  passionate  ex- 
pectation of  dwelling  therein.  To  aged  saints  in  particular  this  volume 
will  be  very  attractive. — Journal  and  Messenger, 


